“And at that, after your own tribute to the essential fineness of her
character, your notion of 'decent society' sounds highly technical to
me, Sir Robert. Good-by to you. You will forgive me for saying that I
shall be very glad when you are gone.”
He did not reply. But as I laid my hand on the knob of the door, I
caught a low exclamation behind me that seemed to have both pain and
surprise in it.
I looked back. He had sunk down in his chair. One side of his face, the
left side, had twitched upward so that there was a distinct slant to his
mouth and an observably deep, curving line extending from the left lower
corner of his nose.
“Are you ill?” I asked, after a moment.
He slowly shook his head. “Something snapped, I thought,” he replied,
rather huskily. “But I am all here, evidently.”
“I shall be glad to call a doctor.”
“Thank you--it is quite unnecessary. If you will be so good as to have
the manager send me a competent body servant, it will be sufficient.”
“But you may need medical attention.”
“Then it will not be difficult to reach McKenzie, over at the Legation.
I won't trouble you further--beyond that matter of the servant.”