In spite of the terror within her, Millicent tried to turn his attention from his bag, speaking of all kinds of general subjects as fast as they came to her mind, but though he answered her politely, it was with evident irritation, and he seemed to get more excitable every minute.
"This will never do," she thought, "I must humour him," and with sinking heart she ventured on her next question.
"What is this wonderful discovery, Mr. Wharton? if I may ask."
"Certainly, madam. It is a permanent cure for deafness."
Millicent began to breathe more freely as the thought passed through her mind "then it can't affect Mollie," for she forgot for a moment that her guest was not a sane man. Again his eye rested on Mollie, and he rose from his chair.
"The cure is a certain one," he said, "the right ear must be amputated, and the passages thoroughly scraped, but I will show you," and he took a step towards Mollie.
Millicent's face blanched.
"But Mollie is not deaf," she said; "it will hardly do to operate on her."
"It will prevent her ever becoming so, madam, and prevention is better than cure," and he stepped back to the table to select an instrument.
The mother's presence of mind did not desert her—though her legs trembled so violently that she feared her visitor would see her terror.