Olive was already waiting for him in the palm-lounge of the Quisisana when he reached there at ten-o'clock. She was smilingly gracious—had seemingly forgiven him his doubting of her word the evening before. They took a taxi to the nursing home, and on the way Olive stopped at a florist's to buy a bunch of tiger-lilies. Her choice of flower struck Rivière as very characteristic of her own temperament.
They received permission to visit the patient, and were shown to her room by a nurse.
"I have brought you a few flowers, dear," said Olive.
Elaine murmured some words of thanks and felt the flowers to see what they might be. When she recognized them, they conveyed to her the same impression as they had done to Rivière. She drew her vase of white lilac nearer to her, and that trifling action seemed to Rivière as though she were calling upon him for protection.
"We've come to talk matters over calmly and dispassionately," said Olive, taking the reins of conversation into her own hands. "My husband and myself are both anxious to make some arrangement which will be for your happiness. Clifford feels, and I entirely agree with him, that he's under a distinct obligation to you."
"There is no obligation," answered Elaine.
"It's very generous of you to say so, but both Clifford and I feel it deeply. Your livelihood has been taken away from you, and it's our bare duty to make you some form of compensation. The suggestion of letting it come through me would be a very suitable way of solving a delicate problem." She turned to her husband. "Don't you think so, Clifford?"
"I want to hear what Miss Verney has to say."
"Very well."
Elaine paused before she replied, so that her words might carry a fuller significance. "Mrs Matheson," she said, "I don't wish to accept anything from you."