They had finished dinner, and Thurso rose to get a cigarette. "That's the end," he said. "Dr. Symes tells me he has seen that sort of recovery before, but what is odd is that our Mr. Cochrane should have foreseen it. Is he a crank, do you think, or a spiritualist, or some sort of innocent lunatic?" Again Maud mentally reviewed her decision not to do Mr. Cochrane's preaching (which he would not do for himself) for him, and again endorsed her policy. "How do you expect me to know?" she asked. "I talked to him for ten minutes. But he's coming to dine to-morrow, and you can judge for yourself. And how have you been? No headache?" He glanced at her sharply and sideways a moment, with a movement of vague suspicion. "Headache?" he said; "I haven't seemed much like headache this evening, have I? Why?" "Only Dr. Symes told me he was afraid you were in pain. I am delighted he was mistaken." Thurso shrugged his shoulders. "Lord, what bad guesses a skilful doctor makes!" he said. "He half wants people to be ill, so that he may have the pleasure of curing them." * * * * * Maud naturally asked no further question, and told herself that Dr. Symes had simply made what Thurso called a "bad guess." But, knowing them both, it seemed to her odd that he should have thought that Thurso had been suffering if he had not. For it was only when he was in the extremes of pain that anyone could guess that he was on the rack, for it had to be strongly screwed before he visibly winced. For one moment it flashed through her mind that he had been in pain, had perhaps taken laudanum to stop it, and had--well, not chosen to tell her so. Yet his answer, though as a matter of fact it was slightly evasive in form, clearly bore the construction that he had been free from pain all day. So she dismissed that at once, telling herself that it was scandalous of her, though involuntarily only and momentarily, to suspect Thurso of insincerity. Thus, the pause only lasted a moment before she spoke of something else. But in that moment he had said to himself, "Shall I tell her?" * * * * *