"Yes, sir; it looks beautiful."
"But I am not sure that it has healed properly, though it may look 'beautiful,'" he rejoined. "Feel this middle cut. Here; just on the seam."
Mrs. Chaffen rubbed her fingers on the same check apron, and then passed them gently over the place he spoke of. "What do you feel?" he asked.
"Well, sir, it feels a little hard, and there seems to be a kind of knot," she said, still examining the place.
"Precisely so. There's a stiffness about it that I don't altogether like, and now and then it has a kind of a prickly sensation. What I have been fancying is, that a bit of glass may possibly be in it still."
But Mrs. Chaffen did not think so. In her professional capacity she talked nearly as learnedly as a doctor could have talked, though not using quite the same words. Her opinion was that if glass had remained in the hand it would not have healed: she believed that Mr. Strange had only to let it alone and have a little patience, and the symptoms he spoke of would go away.
It is not at all improbable that this opinion was Mr. Strange's own; but he thanked her and said he would abide by her advice, and gave her a little more gentle flattery. Then he sat down in the chair she had dusted, as if he meant to remain for the day, in spite of the disorder of affairs and the damp floor, and entered on a course of indiscriminate gossip. Mrs. Chaffen liked to get on quickly with her work, but she liked gossip better; no matter how busy she might be, a dish of that never came amiss; and she put her back against another chair and folded her bare arms in her apron, and gossiped back again.
In a smooth and natural manner, apparently without intent, the conversation presently turned upon the gentleman (or ghost) Mrs. Chaffen had seen at the Maze. It was a theme she had not tired of yet.
"Now you come to talk of that," cried the detective, "do you know what idea has occurred to me upon the point, Mrs. Chaffen? I think the gentleman you saw may have been Sir Karl Andinnian."
Nurse Chaffen, contrary to her usual habit, did not immediately reply, but seemed to fall into thought.