“It is too true,” he muttered. He let the lace fall back over her heaving chest, and looked at her again. The woman stirred in her sleep. Her long training as a nurse had accustomed her to wake up bright and alert. Tarbot put the stethoscope in his pocket. Clara opened her eyes and started upright. “I am very sorry I slept,” she said. “Have you been long here? Shall I ring for coffee—the servants have not yet gone to bed?” “No, thanks. I want to talk to you, Clara. Are you wide awake? Can you attend to me?” “Certainly. I am very wide awake. I have had my little nap. I do not need more sleep to-night—that is, if you really wish to speak to me.” “I want to say something, but I shall not keep you long.” “Have you been in the room many minutes?” “Two or three.” “You were seated here close to me, looking at me?” “Aye, I looked at you. By the way, Clara, I wish you would not wear those diamonds every night.” “Why not? Do you object?” “I do. It is bad form. You are not going out anywhere. Only a _parvenu_ would load herself with jewels in the way you do. You coughed, too, in your sleep, and when you did I noticed the diamonds. Do you ever feel ill, or tired, or weary?” “Of late I have done so from time to time.” “I thought as much. I must send you to a warmer climate, but we will talk of that later on. You cannot leave England at present. You are useful to me.” “I know that, Luke. I am glad to be useful to you.” “Then take care of yourself, and don’t go out too much at night. By the way, does that cough hurt?” “A little. Why?” “I will only tell you that you ought to be careful. A cough is a thing no one should trifle with. Your mother is alive, I think I heard you say?” “Yes.” “Is your father?” “No.” “What did your father die of?” “Consumption. ‘Galloping consumption’ they called it down in Cornwall.” “Ah, I see!” Clara’s eyes began to dilate with a sort of terror. Tarbot looked away from her. “We won’t talk any more of your health now,” he said after a pause. “We will get to business.” She gave him a pleading glance, and then with a heavy sigh lowered her eyes. “I am all attention,” she said. “Pelham has been here,” said Tarbot. “Is he here now?” “No; I turned him out.” “Good Heavens, Luke! Why?” “Because he insulted me.” “What do you mean?” “To all intents and purposes, he accused me of the murder of Sir Piers Pelham.” “Nonsense! He accused you! Why should he think any foul play had taken place? Impossible!” “Nevertheless it is true. The man is an utter fool. I always thought him so, but I find there is a bit of the knave in him as well. He maintains that the child did not come by his death by ordinary means. He is moving heaven and earth in this cursed business. Clara, it is full time for us to be up and stirring.” “What do you mean?” She had risen from her chair, her thin hands worked convulsively, the rings on her fingers flashed.