ng about with a
temperature."

"Well, once this is over"--she knew he meant the funeral--"if I don't
feel any better, I'll take your advice. Only, somehow, I don't awfully
like the idea of..."--he did not finish, but instead looked about him
with a slight gesture of distaste.

"Why do you stay here?" she whispered quickly. "Why not go to a
nursing-home."

His eyes met hers in a flash of sympathetic understanding.

"Would you come and see me there?" he asked seriously.

"Of course. I'd even nurse you, if you wanted me to," she answered
simply.

"If you really mean that," he returned, frowning earnestly down at her,
"I've half a mind to do it."

They moved apart as the night-nurse returned up the stairs. Esther
felt slightly easier in her mind about him now. There was another
thing, though. As he turned to go, she noticed that the bandage was
off his right hand, and that the wound was open and bleeding again.

"That won't do," she chid him gently. "I must attend to it again
before you get it infected. You really are stubborn, you know! Leave
it till breakfast-time, though. Go back to bed and rest; you need it."

The day, begun so early, seemed interminable, yet there were so many
things to see to that it was afternoon before she found an opportunity
of carrying out her secret intention.

At last, about four o'clock, she set out in a taxi-cab to execute a
number of small commissions for Miss Clifford, at whose desire she was
to remain on in the house till after the funeral. The other nurse had
already gone. Her errands finished, she stopped the taxi at a small
chemist's shop which she had noticed before, not the one usually
patronised by the Cliffords, but a smaller one about a mile away. It
was neat and old-fashioned in appearance, with a row of majolica jars
in the window. She went in briskly, resolved to show no nervousness
and to state her request with perfect sang-froid. At any cost she must
avoid the suspicion of anything out of the ordinary.

"What can I do for you, mademoiselle?"

She was relieved to find the assistant spoke English, it made it easier
to explain what she wanted done. The man was a blond, pink-skinned
Frenchman with half his face hidden by a curly fair beard. He eyed her
indifferently while she undid the tissue-paper wrappings of her little
parcel and displayed the hypodermic needle.

"I wonder if you could get this analysed for me?" she said, looking
straight into