Drummond,” he continued, looking across at his vis-à-vis, “we look to you to give expression to our sentiments. Through her door curtain she could see the light from the study lamp. ’ ‘In a somewhat roundabout fashion, if you ask me,’ came in a mutter from her old nurse, very much in her usual style. “Dear husband,” she murmured. She clasped her hands over her mouth in a silent scream. As if we didn’t know! The practical trouble is our ages. ‘You’re right. Perhaps this was the real turning point: the hour in which the disordered mind began permanently to readjust itself. It was after all a momentary affair.
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