"I must warn you that I'll send you a bill for any medical advice I give you," I replied, laughing.
She smiled only a little and then puckered her brow seriously.
"I wanted to ask you about that operation. Wasn't it performed under unusual circumstances?"
I was taken by surprise and I am afraid that the truth forced its indications through my professional manner. "Why do you ask?"
"I noticed Blake standing near the door. There seemed to be a bulge in his pocket. It couldn't have been a gun, could it? And you kept watching, as if you were afraid a tribe of Indians would drop in for a massacre. I wonder if there couldn't have been a tall, dark gentleman mixed up in these unusual precautions?"
I did not reply.
"And I've noticed during my convalescence that the internes that continually hover around my door have a look as if—well, shall I say that they look more like policemen than internes?"
I laughed nervously. "I think you are a mental case, Miss Mayo," I said. "I shall have to call in a specialist."
"You do not need to deny it, Fred," she said. "Why do you suppose I insisted that you perform the operation? Why didn't I let you call in someone else? It was because you are the only man in the world that I trust, Fred. How much did Gustav Keeshwar offer you to do me in?"
Before I could stop myself I opened my mouth and blurted the truth.