And at last, in desperation, she told him. "Doctor, it must be awful for Chris—having to wait about here just because of me. It can't be much of a holiday for him."
He looked at her with kindly eyes. "Well, and what about you?" he asked. "It's worse for you, I suppose?"
Marie shook her head. "I—oh, no! He's a man, you see, and he's different."
Dr. Carey said: "Oh, I see," rather drily. He walked away from her and came back, "You've been married—how long?" he asked.
"Only a week."
"Well, it's not long enough for that husband of yours to have got tired of dancing attendance on you, anyway," he answered. "No, you will not be allowed downstairs till Saturday."
"It must be awfully dull for Chris," she sighed.
She said the same thing to Feathers when he looked in that evening for a few seconds.
Feathers never brought her flowers or sweets, or presents, for which she was thankful, and he never stayed more than about five minutes, but he always managed to bring a cheeriness into the room with him and leave her with a smile in her brown eyes.
"Dull! Chris!" he said, echoing her words bluntly. "Not he. Don't you worry, Mrs. Lawless. Chris knows how to look after himself."