get away from Dr. Vereker, by-the-bye.
An awkward third isn't wanted.

"There's plenty more Neckitts where he comes from," pursues Sally,
as the "other two"--for that is how Fenwick thinks of them--get
themselves and their instruments out of the house. "So don't be
nonsensical, Dr. Conrad.... Stop a moment. I _must_ speak to Tishy."
And Sally gives chase, and overtakes the other two just by the
fire-alarm, where Fenwick came to a standstill. Do you remember? It
certainly has been a record effort to "get away first." You know this
experience yourself at parties? Sally speaks to Tishy in the glorious
summer night, and the three talk together earnestly under innumerable
constellations, and one gas-lamp that elbows the starry heavens out
of the way--a self-asserting, cheeky gas-lamp.

The doctor organizes tactics rapidly. He can hear that Sally's step
goes up the street, and then the voices at a distance. If he can say
good-bye and rush away just as Sally does the same, why then they
will meet outside, don't you see?

Rosalind and her husband seem to have wireless telegrams passing. For
when Sally vanishes there is a ring as of instruction received in the
tone of Fenwick's voice as he addresses the doctor:

"Couldn't you manage to get your mother to come too, Vereker? She must
be terribly in want of a change."

"So I tell her; but she's so difficult to move."

"Have a sedan-chair thing----"

"I don't mean that--not physically difficult. I mean she's got so
anchored no one can persuade her to move. She hasn't been away for
ages."

"Sally must go and persuade her." It is Rosalind who says this. "I'm
sure Sally will manage it."

"She will if any one can," says the doctor. "Of course, I could
soon get a locum if there was a chance of mother." And then the
conversation supports itself on the possible impossibility of finding
a lodging at St. Sennans-on-Sea, and consoles itself with its intense
improbability till the doctor finds it necessary to depart with the
promptitude of a fire-engine suddenly rung up.

He had calculated his time to a nicety, for he met Sally just as "the
other two" got safe round the corner.

* * * * *

"Oh no," said Fenwick, replying to a query; "he doesn't mean to carry
it all the way. He'll pick up a cab at the corner." The query was
about the violoncello, and Fenwick was coming back to the room
where his wife was closing the piano in anticipation of Ann. He