d hear voices
inside the room--Harriet Santoine's, Sinclair's, Connery's. The
conductor then came to the door of the drawing-room and sent the porter
for water and clean linen; Eaton heard the rip of linen being torn, and
the car became filled with the smell of antiseptics.

Donald Avery came out of the drawing-room and dropped into the seat
across from Eaton. He seemed deeply thoughtful--so deeply, indeed, as
to be almost unaware of Eaton's presence. And Eaton, observing him,
again had the sense that Avery's absorption was completely in
consequences to himself of what was going on behind the door--in how
Basil Santoine's death or continued existence would affect the fortunes
of Donald Avery.

"Is he going to operate?" Eaton asked.

"Operate? Yes; he's doing it," Avery replied shortly.

"And Miss Santoine?"

"She's helping--handing instruments and so on."

Avery could not have replied, as he did, if the strain this period must
impose upon Harriet Santoine had been much in his mind. Eaton turned
from him and asked nothing more. A long time passed--how long, Eaton
could not have told; he noted only that during it the shadows on the
snowbank outside the window appreciably changed their position. Once
during this time, the door of the drawing-room was briefly opened,
while Connery handed something out to the porter, and the smell of the
antiseptics grew suddenly stronger; and Eaton could see behind Connery
the surgeon, coatless and with shirt-sleeves rolled up, bending over
the figure on the bed. Finally the door opened again, and Harriet
Santoine came out, paler than before, and now not quite so steady.

Eaton rose as she approached them; and Avery leaped up, all concern and
sympathy for her immediately she appeared. He met her in the aisle and
took her hand.

"Was it successful, dear?" Avery asked.

She shut her eyes before she answered, and stood holding to the back of
a seat; then she opened her eyes, saw Eaton and recognized him and sat
down in the seat where Avery had been sitting.

"Dr. Sinclair says we will know in four or five days," she replied to
Avery; she turned then directly to Eaton. "He thought there probably
was a clot under the skull, and he operated to find it and relieve it.
There was one, and we have done all we can; now we may only wait. Dr.
Sinclair has appointed himself nurse; he says I can help him, but not
just yet. I thought you would like to know."

"Thank you; I did wan