"No," said Suzanne—"no, I don't think so."
After dinner that night I was playing billiards with Toby, who is Suzanne's aunt's nephew-by-marriage. We had the room to ourselves.
"Dull part of the world this," he remarked. "By the way, what about that malaria of yours?"
"What about it?" I observed shortly.
"Comes and goes rather suddenly, doesn't it?"
"Very," I agreed. "It's one of the suddenest diseases ever invented."
"'Invented' is a good word," said Toby. "You're a bit of an inventor, aren't you?"
"What do you mean? Are you venturing to imply—"
"I imply nothing. I merely state that this morning Suzanne came down to breakfast in her travelling-clothes. And that wasn't all."
"Wasn't it?" I inquired weakly. "Tell me the worst."