“Oh—I—I wasn’t aware that he was quite—quite so intimate as that.”
I felt that the woman was regarding me out of the corner of her eye. She knew that she was torturing me.
“Oh dear, yes. Not that I fancy that Bessie’s very fond of Dr. Hume. Indeed, it’s rather the other way. It’s my belief that she can’t bear the sight of the man. Though I don’t know why. He’s most charming—and so clever. Don’t you like clever people?” No, I did not, I never did, and never shall. “Should I ascertain how Bessie’s progressed since I went out, or don’t you care to stay?”
“If—if you would let me know how she is!”
Letting herself in with a latchkey, she made inquiries of the maid who appeared in the hall.
“How is Miss Moore?”
“I don’t think she’s quite so well, miss. I sent for Dr. Nockolds, and I did think of sending for Dr. Hume.”
“Hume!” I cut in. “I shouldn’t send for Hume. The other man’s as good, if not better.”
Miss Adair turned to me.
“But, my dear Mr. Ferguson, Dr. Hume is a most skilful practitioner.”