As he spoke, his voice grew warmer. His reserve seemed to be melting, the friend to be stirring in the patient. Although certainly he did not realize it, the absence of his wife had already made a difference in his feeling towards Isaacson. Her perpetual silent hostility was like an emanation that insensibly affected her husband. Now that was withdrawn to a distance, he reverted instinctively towards—not yet to—the old relation with his friend. He longed to get rid of all the difficulty between them, and this could only be done by making Isaacson understand Ruby more as he understood her. If he could only accomplish this before Ruby came back! Now this idea came to him, and sent warmth into his voice, warmth into his manner. Isaacson opened his lips to make some friendly protest, but Nigel continued:
"And d'you know who made me see my selfishness—realize how tremendously unselfish you've been in sticking to me all this time?"
Isaacson said nothing.
"My wife. She opened my eyes to it. But for her I mightn't have given a thought to all your loss, not only your material loss, but—"
Isaacson felt as if something poisonous had stung him.
"Please don't speak of anything of that kind!" he said.
"I know I can never compensate you for all you've done for us—"
"Oh, yes, you can!"
The Doctor's voice was almost sharp. Nigel was startled by it.
"We can? How?"