w words more, and she would be
compelled to say, "Very well, if that's what you think of me I'd better
go at once and let you get another nurse." The sentence trembled on
her lips, but she did not speak it. In her heart she knew why. The
truth was she did not want to go. She was interested in her case;
these people had been kind to her, and then--perhaps it was the real
reason--there was Roger....

When at last the man paused for breath, she bowed her head slightly.

"I can only say again that I am sorry," she replied, and left the room.

Trembling with anger, she went straight to her room and stood by the
window, clutching the curtain and staring out unseeingly. Ten minutes
passed before she was able to subdue her pounding heart, which seemed
with every beat to choke her. For a time she was quite incapable of
seeing anything clearly, so bewildered was she and shaken by
indignation.

At last she tried to arraign her chaotic thoughts and reason the affair
out. Was the mislaying of a hypodermic needle such a heinous offence?
Impossible! There was no sense in it. Was it then that the doctor had
a sort of fixation on the subject of precision, that she had
unknowingly offended him in a vulnerable spot? That explanation was
more likely, yet not quite satisfying. Something else occurred to her.
Perhaps he had been made angry by another person, and had tented his
rage on her. That sort of thing was easy to understand. Or else--and
now she felt she had hit upon something at last!--he might have some
reason of his own for wishing to be rid of her, and had taken this
method of driving her to give notice. She could not conceive in what
way she could have caused him so to dislike her, but he was a strange
man, there was no knowing what his prejudices were like. Perhaps,
indeed, he was acting for Lady Clifford, who might easily have reason
to wish her away.... Yes, that was distinctly possible.

The very thought aroused all her fighting instinct. She squared her
jaw firmly, determined to stand her ground.

"No," she said positively to herself, "I'm not going to leave this case
unless they put me out. Sir Charles is my patient as much as his, and
I'm jolly well going to look after him."

She knew how hard it was going to be to face Sartorius after the recent
scene--she would even find it unpleasant to sit opposite him at table.
Still, there was no help for it; she must simply cultivate a thick skin
and not le