“About a month. Doctor Feng will be here soon: he will be delighted.”
“Doctor Feng!” I flared out. “Why should he be pleased? Perhaps Humphreys will be pleased too. He was a great friend of Feng’s.”
“Humphreys is dead,” Thelma said gently. “I can’t tell you the full story yet—you are not well enough—but he was traced from the house in Hampstead to some rooms he had in secret in Earl’s Court Road and he shot himself there when the detectives went to arrest him. Now be quiet and don’t bother your head about things. Everything is all right and you shall learn all from Doctor Feng. You can recognize me now and you will soon be yourself.”
“But, Thelma,” I cried, “how did you escape? Were you hurt?”
“Now, don’t trouble about me,” she said lightly. “You will see Doctor Feng soon.”
“I don’t want to see him,” I said snappishly. “He was a friend of Humphreys’ and I believe was in league with him.”
Thelma looked at me, a soft light in her eyes. “No,” she said simply. “You are making a great mistake. You never had a better friend, nor Humphreys a more deadly enemy than Doctor Feng.”
I sat up in amazement. Feng my friend! Had I distrusted the old doctor without reason?
“Here he is!” cried Thelma joyously and I looked up to see Doctor Feng, in a gray summer suit and white felt hat striding briskly across the lawn towards us.
A glance at me was sufficient to tell him the good news; there was no need for Thelma’s excited outburst. The old doctor silently held out his hand, his seamed face alight with obvious pleasure.