"I'm terribly sorry you should think that of me, Dr Macphail. Believe me, my heart bleeds for that unfortunate woman, but I'm only trying to do my duty."
The doctor made no answer. He looked out of the window sullenly. For once it was not raining and across the bay you saw nestling among the trees the huts of a native village.
"I think I'll take advantage of the rain stopping to go out," he said.
"Please don't bear me malice because I can't accede to your wish," said Davidson, with a melancholy smile. "I respect you very much, doctor, and I should be sorry if you thought ill of me."
"I have no doubt you have a sufficiently good opinion of yourself to bear mine with equanimity," he retorted.
"That's one on me," chuckled Davidson.
When Dr Macphail, vexed with himself because he had been uncivil to no purpose, went downstairs, Miss Thompson was waiting for him with her door ajar.
"Well," she said, "have you spoken to him?"
"Yes, I'm sorry, he won't do anything," he answered, not looking at her in his embarrassment.
But then he gave her a quick glance, for a sob broke from her. He saw that her face was white with fear. It gave him a shock of dismay. And suddenly he had an idea.