"I didn't sleep at night," Nigel said quickly. "What you gave me did me no good at all."
"I'm sorry for that."
Nigel still sat up against the cushions, but his body now inclined slightly to the left side, where Mrs. Armine was standing, looking down on him with quiet solicitude.
"I had a very bad night—very bad."
"Then I'm afraid—"
"Doctor Hartley rowed down to fetch you here, I understood," Nigel interrupted.
There was suspicion in his voice.
"Yes," said Hartley, speaking for the first time, nervously. "I—I thought to myself, 'Two heads are better than one.'"
He forced a sort of laugh. Nigel twitched on the divan like a man supremely irritated, then looked from one doctor to the other with eyes that included them both in his irritation.
"Two heads—what for?" he said. "What d'you mean?"