Dr Marilliar laid down the tiny hammer with which he had been tapping sundry of his patient’s joints, and pulled the loose, fleecy robe right over her. ‘That’s all now, thank you. Run along into the other room and get into your clothes while your aunt and I have a chat.’
The patient, pulling the robe closely round her, rolled off the high couch, and pattered across the room to the baize-covered door which led into the small room where she had undressed. When the door had closed behind her, ‘Auntie’ leaned forward eagerly. ‘What do you think of her, Doctor? It isn’t anything very much, is it? She’s just rundown?’
For reply, the doctor got to his feet, and took a turn across the room while she watched him. There was a frown between his black brows, and his mouth looked rather grim. The sallow-faced lady in the big fur coat, which was flung open to show a scarlet dress and a heavy string of black and white beads, gazed at him, and her mouth began to tremble. ‘It—it isn’t anything—serious, is it, Doctor? Not—not——’ She faltered, and stopped.