"You quarrelled?"
"Yes, I suppose it might be called that."
In the midst of her exhaustion, her physical misery and mental distraction, Mrs. Armine was conscious of a sharp pang. It was like that of joy.
"Doctor Isaacson has left the house for good?" she said.
"Yes. He won't come here again."
She drank some more tea, and went on eating. For the first time for days she felt some appetite. A shock of fear that had assailed her had passed away. She remembered how Nigel had held her hand closely in the hall.
"But why did you quarrel?" she said, at last.
"Oh, we had a discussion—" He paused.
"I know," she said, "I know! You did what I asked you to do. You spoke about being strong enough now to let Doctor Isaacson go back to London."
"Yes, I did that."