"I am afraid you have eaten something that has disagreed with you very badly," he said at last.
Milford lay back on the pillow, his lips twitching faintly.
"Am I going to die, sir?" he whispered.
"Oh, dear, no," said Ritchie, with an encouraging smile. "We shall have you perfectly well in a week or so. Just for the moment, however, you'll have to keep very still and do exactly what you're told. I shall send you round a nurse at once, and look you up again myself this afternoon."
Milford made a feeble motion as if to protest against this luxury.
"That's all right, Milford," I said. "You are to do just what the doctor tells you, and not bother your head about anything."
He thanked me with a faint smile, and after tucking him up in bed, we left the room.
As soon as we were in the passage, I turned to Ritchie.
"Well," I said, "what's the matter?"
There was a short silence.