"Doctor, are you married?"
"No," the other answered; and there was a note of pity in his voice.
"Then you can't understand what your verdict means to me. Is it
irrevocable?"
Gerard Fane hesitated.
"I wish I could hope not; but--"
"But--?"
"It is."
Brune stood up. His face was quite calm now and his voice, when he spoke
again, was firm and vibrating.
"I have some work that I should wish to finish. How long can you give
me?"
"Three months."
"One will do if my strength keeps up at all. Good-bye."
There was a thin chink of coins grating one against the other. The
specialist said:--
"I will call on you to-morrow, between four and five. I have more
directions to give you. To-day my time is so much taken up. Good-bye."
The door closed.
In the waiting-room, a moment later, Brune was gathering up his coat and
hat.
The two ladies eyed him curiously as he took them and passed out.
"He does look a little pale, after all," whispered one of them. A
moment later he was in the street.
From the window of his consulting-room, Gerard Fane watched the tall
figure striding down the pavement.
"I am sorry that man is going to die," he said to himself.
And then he turned gravely to greet a new patient.