“But if you were a bad citizen?” she persisted.
“Oh, then I might agree with you on some points. But I shouldn't say such things to my patients, Miss Kilburn.”
“It would be a great comfort to them if you did,” she sighed.
The doctor broke out in a laugh of delight at her perfervid concentration. “Oh, no, no! They're mostly nervous women, and it would be the death of them—if they understood me. In fact, what's the use of brooding upon such ideas? We can't hurry any change, but we can make ourselves uncomfortable.”
“Why should I be comfortable?” she asked, with a solemnity that made him laugh again.
“Why shouldn't you be?”
“Yes, that's what I often ask myself. But I can't be,” she said sadly.
They had risen, and he looked at her with his professional interest now openly dominant, as he stood holding her hand. “I'm going to send you a little more of that tonic, Miss Kilburn.”
She pulled her hand away. “No, I shall not take any more medicine. You think everything is physical. Why don't you ask at once to see my tongue?”
He went out laughing, and she stood looking wistfully at the door he had passed through.