the devil influenza
plays.... A slight nervous shock and a chill; quite slight, I hope. A
few days' rest and plenty of nourishment. There's nothing; temperature
inconsiderable. All perfectly intelligible. Most certainly reassure
yourself! And as for the change you speak of'--he looked steadily at the
dark face on the pillow and smiled amiably--'I don't think we need
worry much about that. It certainly was a bleak wind yesterday--and a
cemetery, my dear sir! It was indiscreet--yes, very.' He held out his
hand. 'You must not be alarmed,' he said, very distinctly with
the merest trace of an accent; 'air, sunshine, quiet, nourishment;
sleep--that is all. The little window might be a few inches open,
and--and any light reading.'

He opened the door and joined Mrs Lawford on the staircase. He talked
to her quietly over his shoulder all the way downstairs. 'It was, it was
sporting with Providence--a wind, believe me, nearly due east, in spite
of the warm sunshine.'

'But the change--the change!' Mrs Lawford managed to murmur tragically,
as he strode to the door. Dr Simon smiled, and gracefully tapped his
forehead with a red-gloved forefinger.

'Humour him, humour him,' he repeated indulgently. 'Rest and quiet
will soon put that little trouble out of his head. Oh yes, I did notice
it--the set drawn look, and the droop: quite so. Good morning.'

Mrs Lawford gently closed the door after him. A glimpse of Ada, crossing
from room to room, suggested a precaution. She called out in her
clearest notes. 'If Dr Ferguson should call while I am out, Ada, will
you please tell him that Dr Simon regretted that he was unable to wait?
Thank you.' She paused with hand on the balusters, then slowly ascended
the stairs. Her husband's face was turned to the ceiling, his hands
clasped above his head. She took up her stand by the fireplace, resting
one silk-slippered foot on the fender. 'Dr Simon is reassuring,' she
said, 'but I do hope, Arthur, you will follow his advice. He looks a
fairly clever man.... But with a big practice.... Do you think, dear, he
quite realised the extent of the--the change?'

'I told him what happened,' said her husband's voice out of the
bed-clothes.

'Yes, yes, I know,' said Sheila soothingly; 'but we must remember he is
comparatively a stranger. He would not detect--'

'What did he tell you?' asked the voice.

Mrs Lawford deliberately considered. If only he would always thus keep
his face concealed, how much