“Oh, nothing,” and he kept his back to her.
Mrs. Betty rang the bell for fresh tea.
“What a surly dog you are, Parker.”
“Surly!”
“Yes.”
“Confound it, can’t you see that I’m dead tired? You women always want to talk.”
Betty Steel looked at him curiously, and spoke to the maid who was waiting at the door.
“I always know, Parker, when you have lost a patient,” she drawled, calmly, when the girl had gone.
“Who said anything about losing patients?”
“Have you quarrelled with old Pennington?”