"Do you think Mrs. Baxter--"
"Oh, God! Oh, God!" sobbed Maggie.
"Steady, steady," said the old man. "Take my arm, Miss Deronnais."
She shook her head, keeping her eyes fixed on his.
He smiled in his grey beard.
"Very good," he said, "very good. And do you think--"
She shook her head again.
"No: not one word. She is his mother. Besides--she is not the
kind--she would be of no use."
"Yes: it is as I thought. Very well, Miss Deronnais; you will have to
be responsible. You can wire for me at any moment. You have my
address?"
She nodded.
"Then I have one or two things to add. Whatever happens, do not lose
heart for one moment. I have seen these cases again and again....
Whatever happens, too, do not put yourself into a doctor's hands until
I have seen Mr. Baxter for myself. The thing may come suddenly or
gradually. And the very instant you are convinced it is coming,
telegraph to me. I will be here two hours after.... Do you
understand?"
They halted twenty yards from the turning into the hamlet. He looked
at her again with his kindly humorous eyes.
She nodded slowly and deliberately, repeating in her own mind his
instructions; and beneath, like a whirl of waters, questions surged to
and fro, clamoring for answer.
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