“His intelligence department is good,” Eric commented. “She only came to me two days ago.”
“I expect Johnnie feels that his nose is a little out of joint.”
Eric smiled, but he was disquieted; though he saw and heard nothing of Gaymer, he could not help thinking of him; he had been brooding uneasily when Pentyre came into the club; he continued to worry himself with vague doubts as he waited for Gaisford.
“Well, I suppose I may say we’re on probation,” Eric announced, when the doctor arrived for dinner. “I put the whole case before the girl, the day after our talk, and we’re taking a month to see how we get on before she makes her final decision. I hope that may be accounted to me for prudence. By the way, she’s working for me as secretary for a few weeks.”
“So I heard.”
“Damnation!”
The doctor laughed and shrugged his shoulders.
“You know, Eric, you’re as much of an ostrich as you’ve always been,” he said. “Either credit people with the faculty of sight, or be philosophical and say you don’t care what other people think.”
“I don’t care,—but it’s annoying,” said Eric inconsequently. “How did you hear?”
“From Barbara Oakleigh.”