“No, ma’am.”
“Well?”
“Dr. Steel is in the study. He wished me to say that he would see you the moment you came home.”
Nearly twenty-four hours had passed since Betty Steel had seen her husband. The physician had been called up in the night, and had breakfasted away. She herself had lunched with Lady Gillingham, so that their paths had run uncrossed since yesterday.
“Has any one called?”
“No, ma’am.”
“You may bring up tea.”
The Venetian blinds were down in the consulting room, an initial coincidence, for Parker Steel was a believer in light. He was sitting at the bureau by the window, but glanced over his shoulder as his wife entered.
“Is that you, dear?”
“Yes; what is it?”