“I would like to ask a favor of you,” hesitating.
“I was going to say if there was anything I could do—”
“If you don't mind,” with increasing hesitancy, “will you say to Miss Emory for me that I'd like to see her to-morrow afternoon? I'll call about three—that is—”
“Yes, I'll tell her for you.”
“Thank you,” gratefully. “Thank you very much. You think she will be at home?” awkwardly, for he was afraid the doctor had misunderstood.
“I fancy so. I can see now, if you wish.”
“No, don't. I'll call on the chance of finding her in.”
“Just as you prefer.”
Oakley extended his hand. “I won't keep you standing any longer. Somehow our talk has helped me. Good-night.”
“Good-night.”