“I believe I am beginning to,” he said huskily. “I didn’t realize that women like you still existed. I—I am defeated. If you wish, I will not come here again.”
“Oh, oh,” Claire gazed after him wanly. “I was afraid you would say that! Why, you’re the only real friend I have. If you desert me, I don’t know what I shall do. Won’t you please forgive me?”
He hesitated a moment. His averted face worked oddly. Then he turned and walked back to the bed.
“What are you talking about?” The warm voice was a trifle unsteady. “Of course, I forgive you. We’ll never mention the subject again. I want you to consult me just as if this had never happened. Promise?”
He held out his hand and she laid hers in it thankfully. Once more the tears were very close.
“Of course, I promise. What could I do without you?”
“That’s right.” He cleared his throat. “Now lie down again. I want you to stay in bed for a day or two, until your nerves get rested. I’ll send you around a nurse. A nice, fat, little girl who will cheer you up. You need companionship. This colossal brute,” he stooped quickly and picked up the diminutive Griffon from out his basket, “is not particularly diverting, except to look at.” He met Claire’s clouded eyes with a smile, and bag in hand, started for the door.
“So long, until to-morrow. Don’t you dare be gloomy!”
As he reached the large square entrance hall, the front door opened and admitted Mme. Petrovskey. Swathed in sealskin, wreathed with smiles, a coquettish hippopotamus, she approached him.
“Oh, Dr. Elliott, you here? How charming! But perhaps I shouldn’t be pleased? Is my dear daughter ill again? Or is this merely the sad return from one of your delightful little jaunts?”