"Well no--whatever he does he won't do that," said Mary.
She thought, "So that's what she came for. Steven hasn't told her
anything."
"What put that idea into your head?" she asked.
"Somebody told me so."
"He _has_ had an offer of Dr. Harker's practice in Leeds, and he'd
some idea of taking it. He seemed to think it might be a good thing."
There was a flicker in the whiteness of Gwenda's face. It arrested
Mary.
It was not excitement nor dismay nor eagerness, nor even interest.
It was a sort of illumination, the movement of some inner light, the
shining passage of some idea. And in Gwenda's attitude, as it now
presented itself to Mary, there was a curious still withdrawal and
detachment. She seemed hardly to listen but to be preoccupied with her
idea.
"He thought it would be a good thing," she said.
"I think I've convinced him," said Mary, "that it wouldn't."
Gwenda was stiller and more withdrawn than ever, guarding her idea.
"Can I see Steven before I go?" she said presently.
"Of course. He'll be up in a second----"
"I can't--here."
Mary stared. She understood.
"You're ill. Poor dear, you shall see him this minute."
She rang the bell.
LXV
Five minutes passed before Rowcliffe came to Gwenda in the study.
"Forgive me," he said. "I had a troublesome patient."
"Don't be afraid. You're not going to have another."
"Come, _you_ haven't troubled me much, anyhow.
Pages:
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370