Doctor Thomas motioned Mrs. Ogden to leave the room; presently he called her in again.
"He's promised to be good," he told her with an assumption of playfulness.
The colonel was sitting very upright in his chair, his face was paler than usual but his little moustache bristled angrily above his parted lips.
"Well, I must be off," said the doctor, hastily picking up his hat.
4
Mary Ogden laid her hand on her husband's arm. "I'm sorry if this annoys you," she said.
For a moment he did not speak, then he cleared his throat and swallowed. "He tells me, Mary, that it's my one chance of life, always providing that the specialist man consents to my being moved." She was silent, finding nothing to say. He had died so many times already in all but the final act, that now, if Death had moved one step nearer, she scarcely perceived that it was so. Her mind was busy with a thousand pressing problems, the money difficulty, how to manage about her girls, who to leave in charge of the house if she went to London, and where she herself would stay; it would all cost a very great deal. She thought aloud. "It will cost a lot——" she murmured.
He turned towards her. "They say it's my only chance," he repeated, and there was something pathetic in his eyes.
She pulled herself up. "Of course, my dear, we must go, no matter what it costs. And as it's certain to cure you the money will be well spent."
He looked at her doubtfully. "Not certain; there's just a chance, Thomas said. And after all, Mary, I suppose a man has a right to take his last chance? I'm not so very old, you know."