itors rose, and one of them turned to him with a curious
expression.

"No, thanks," he said pointedly. "Considering everything, I don't
think we'll give you the trouble."

With a few conventional words they withdrew, and Herbert smiled at the
nurse.

"I believe Dr. Ballin was most concerned about the injury to my
nerves," he said. "Have you noticed anything wrong with them?"

"Not lately. They seem to be in a normal state."

"That," said Herbert, "is my own opinion. You wouldn't imagine that I
had just finished a rather trying interview?"

"No; you look more amused than upset."

"There was something humorous in the situation; that's often the case
when you see greedy people wasting effort and ingenuity. Perhaps you
heard my visitors expressing their anxiety about my health, though I've
a suspicion that they felt more like wishing the car had made an end of
me."

The nurse laughed and told him that he had better rest; and Herbert lay
back upon the cushions she arranged, with calm content.

During the evening, Sylvia entered the room, dressed a little more
carefully than usual, and Herbert glanced at her with appreciation.

"You look charming, though that's your normal state," he said. "Where
are you going?"

"With Muriel, to dine with the Wests; have you forgotten? But I came
in because Muriel told me you had a letter from George by the last
post."

"So you're still interested in his doings," Herbert rejoined.

"Of course. Does that surprise you?"

"I was beginning to think there was some risk of your forgetting him,
which, perhaps, wouldn't be altogether unnatural. He's a long way off,
which has often its effect, and there's no denying the fact that in
many respects you and he are different."

"Doesn't the same thing apply to you and Muriel? Everybody knows you
get on excellently in spite of it."

Herbert laughed. He was aware that his friends had wondered why he had
married Muriel, and suspected that some of them believed her money had
tempted him. Nevertheless, he made her an affectionate as well as a
considerate husband. In business matters he practised the easy
morality of a hungry beast of prey, but he had his virtues.

"Yes," he said, "that's true. Do you find it encouraging?"

Sylvia had felt a little angry, though she had known that it was seldom
wise to provoke her host.

Without waiting for her answer he continued, half seriously: "There's
often one person who thinks bett