"Well, good-bye, Doctor Hartley," he said.
All this conversation, since the arrival on deck of Mrs. Armine, had been carried on with lowered voices. But now Isaacson spoke more softly, and his eyes for an instant went from Doctor Hartley to the tall figure sitting low in the chair, and back again to Hartley.
He did not hold out his hand. His voice was polite, but almost totally inexpressive.
Doctor Hartley looked quickly towards the chair too.
"Good-bye," he said, hesitatingly.
His youth was very apparent at this moment, pushing up into view through his indecision. Every scrap of Isaacson's anger against him had now entirely vanished.
"Good-bye!"
Mrs. Armine moved her head slightly, settling it against a large cushion. She sighed.
Isaacson walked slowly towards the companion. As the Loulia was a very large dahabeeyah, the upper deck was long. It was furnished like a drawing-room, with chairs, tables, and sofas. Isaacson threaded his way among these cautiously as if mindful of the sick man below. At length he reached the companion and began to descend. Just as he got to the bottom a whispering voice behind him said:
"Doctor Isaacson!"