done to them and for them, who especially
resent the services of women, even of nurses--I mean in quite indifferent
things, not merely in things where a man may naturally shrink from their
help. Well, you don't seem that sort of man in the least." She looked at
him, as she ended this appreciation of him, as though she expected an
answer or a comment. Beaumaroy made neither; he walked on, not even
looking at her.

"And you can't have been troubled long with that wound. It evidently
healed up quickly and sweetly."

Beaumaroy looked for an instant at his maimed hand with a critical air;
but he was still silent.

"So that I wonder you didn't do as most patients do--let the nurse, or,
if you were still disabled after you came out, a friend or somebody, cut
up your food for you without providing yourself with that implement." He
turned his head quickly towards her. "And if you ask me what implement I
mean, I shall answer--the one you tried to snatch from the sideboard at
Tower Cottage before I could see it."

It was a direct challenge; she charged him with a lie. Beaumaroy's face
assumed a really troubled expression, a thing rare for it to do. Yet it
was not an ashamed or abashed expression; it just seemed to recognize
that a troublesome difficulty had arisen. He set a slower pace and
prodded the road with his stick. Mary pushed her advantage. "Your--your
improvization didn't satisfy me at the time, and the more I've thought
over it, the less have I found it convincing."

He stopped again, turning round to her. He slapped his left hand against
the side of his leg. "Well, there it is, Doctor Mary! You must make what
you can of it."

It was complete surrender as to the combination knife-and-fork. He was
beaten, on that point at least, and owned it. His lie was found out.
"It's dashed difficult always to remember that you're a doctor," he broke
out the next minute.

Mary could not help laughing; but her eyes were still keen and
challenging as she said, "Perhaps you'd better change your doctor again,
Mr. Beaumaroy. You haven't found one stupid enough!"

Again Beaumaroy had no defense; his nonplussed air confessed that
maneuver, too. Mary dropped her rallying tone and went on gravely:
"Unless I'm treated with confidence and sincerity, I can't continue to
attend Mr. Saffron."

"That's your ultimatum, is it, Doctor Mary?"

She nodded sharply and decisively. Beaumaroy meditated for a few
seconds. Then he shook his head r