“I cannot say how thankful and grateful I am to you,” he said, extending his hand.
She took it, and he raised hers to his lips, though she coloured and tried to withdraw it.
“Nay, it is but a token of my gratitude and submission. I am thankful to live, and you do not know how certainly you have enabled me to live.”
“My husband is in the laboratory,” said Mrs. Haldane, who felt uneasy, and wished to bring this interview to a close.
“Shall we join him?
“Certainly, if you wish it.”
They found Mr. Haldane busily engaged in writing, while the sinister-looking attendant, with the dark, startling eyes, was noiselessly occupied in filling a number of flasks with some mysterious decoction intended for immediate experiment.
“Ever busy!” exclaimed the vicar.
“Busier than ever just now,” replied Mr. Haldane. “I am preparing a paper which I intend to read on Tuesday next before the scientific congress at Paris.”
“Are you going to Paris?” asked Mr. Santley, with surprise, and addressing the question rather to Mrs. Haldane than her husband.