"Well! He's—he doesn't see quite every one. His practice is only among the richest and smartest people in town. Some one else might answer your purpose better."
He spoke suavely, but the words he said cemented Cuckoo's previously vague thought of trying, perhaps, to see Doctor Levillier into a sudden, strong determination. She divined that, for some reason, Valentine was anxious that she should not see him. That was enough. She would, at whatever cost, make his acquaintance.
"I'll see him if I like," she said hastily, lost to any appreciation of wisdom, through the desire of aiming an instant blow at Valentine.
"Of course! Why not?" was his reply.
"You don't want me to. I can see that," she went on, still more unadvisedly. "You needn't think as you can get over me so easily."
Valentine's smile showed a certain contempt that angered her.
"I know you," she cried.
"Do you?" he said. "I wonder if you would like to know me? Do you remember Marr?"
The lady of the feathers turned cold.
"Marr!" she faltered; "what of him?"