“Oh, I—I’ve been hanging about.”
“In the mud, I should say, from the look of you. You are a disreputable object. So I cannot but hope that you’ve enjoyed your vigil. I may tell you, for your satisfaction, that when I left home Miss Moore was ill.”
“Ill! Not—not really ill?”
“Really ill. This time there’s not a doubt about it. She’s in bed. Dr. Hume says that it’s the result of the breakdown from the overstrain which might have been naturally expected.”
“Hume! Has Hume been here?”
“Certainly. And another medical man.”
“But—what did Hume want?”
“My good sir! Dr. Hume’s a doctor; and a very clever one.”
“Yes; but only in special cases. This sort of thing is not his line.”
“I think you are mistaken. I should say that everything was in his line. Besides, he is a very old and a very intimate friend of Miss Moore’s.”