"Miss Rowe, did you ever know anyone so stupid?"

"Yes, Miss Clifford. He's not the first man I've met who felt like
that."

"You don't mean it! What cowards men are! I wonder what we ought to
do? Of course I'll manage to persuade him."

"Of course you will," Lady Clifford assured her. "When such a small,
small thing can prevent a bad illness, one must try to find a way of
removing a silly prejudice."

"Oh, leave him to me, I'll talk him round."

"Only, don't let him wait too long--stupid boy! It might be too late
to do any good. Persuade him to let the doctor examine him now."

"I will. I'll go after him this minute. He mustn't be allowed to
trifle with his health in this way," and the elder woman left the room,
glad of the relief of action.

As Esther rose to go back into the bedroom. Lady Clifford inquired
wearily:

"Is there any change, nurse?"

"I'm afraid not, Lady Clifford. He's barely conscious, that's all."

The Frenchwoman sighed slightly as she turned away.

"It only there were something one could do," she murmured. "If one
didn't feel so helpless!"

The afternoon dragged by, the invalid drifting surely towards the other
world in spite of all the efforts made to anchor him to this one.
Esther stayed close beside the bed, even though there was little she
could do, mildly saddened because of sympathy for at least two members
of the old man's family who would mourn his loss. The "case," now so
nearly finished, appeared, as she reviewed it, quite an ordinary one,
all the tiny things that had struck her as odd or arresting seemed
trivial in retrospect, unworthy of the attention she had bestowed on
them. No doubt everything had grown out of the rather peculiar
personality of Sartorius from whom she would soon be
dissociated--without regret. She would certainly not continue to work
for him, even if he wanted her, and of course he would not want her.
No, if nothing prevented her, she would probably spend a few free weeks
in Cannes, then take passage back to America.

_If nothing prevented_: would Roger try to stop her going? Or had his
feeling for her not risen above the plane of mild flirtation? He had
said nothing, there was nothing for her to go on beyond the look in his
eyes. She was ashamed to confess to herself how much she hoped that he
really cared. Thank goodness she had not committed herself in any way;
that was one good thing.

That evening there was a dreadful feel