“Then I think there is nothing more to be said between us.”
The physician made a step towards the door.
“Accept my regrets”—the vanity of the man, the desire to stand well in the eyes of a handsome woman, was not wholly to be suppressed.
“I accept no regrets, Dr. Steel—”
“Indeed.”
“For no regrets are given. My eyes are open to the truth.”
Steel turned the handle of the door.
“A sense of duty makes us enemies, Mrs. Murchison.”
“Perhaps, sir, your very lively sense of duty may lead you some day into a lane that has no turning.”
Whether by chance, or by premeditated malice, Mrs. Betty crossed the hall as Catherine left the drawing-room. She halted, smiled, and extended a languid hand. Her eyes recalled to Catherine the eyes of the previous night.