“Was she sentimental...?”
“She was an invalid. A bed-ridden beauty ... and, of course, the hero’s a Doctor.”
“Oh! my word!”
“Is there anyone at home?” A tired voice came thrilling up from below.
“Who comes?”
Mrs. Sixsmith started.
“It sounds to me like my husband,” she said, with an involuntary nervous movement of the hands.
“I forgot,” Mr. Weathercock said. “He mentioned he might blow in.”
“Oh!”
“I’d take to my heels!” Miss Iris advised.