"It's as if I'd brought something deformed and horrible into the world——"
The doctor leaned forward, more than ever attentive.
"And you would go and drag it out, all of you, when I was sitting there in shame and misery. And before George Tanqueray—How could you?"
"My dear Jinny——"
Brodrick was leaning forward too now, looking at her with affectionate concern.
Her brother-in-law rose and held out his hand. He detained hers for an appreciable moment, thoughtfully, professionally.
"I think," he said, "really, you'd better go to bed."
Outside in the hall she could hear him talking to Hugh.
"It's physical, it's physical," he said. "It won't do to upset her. You must take great care."
The doctor's voice grew mysterious, then inaudible, and she heard Hugh saying he supposed that it was so; and Henry murmured and mumbled himself away. Outside their voices still retreated with their footsteps, down the garden path, and out at the terrace gate. Hugh was seeing Henry home.