The nurse's signalling tells, and the questioner runs into an opposite extreme. "One is like that in the morning sometimes," says he absurdly, but meaning well. He is not an Earl who would be of much use in a hospital for the treatment of nervous disorders. However, having grasped the situation he shows tact, changing the conversation to the heat of the weather and the probable earliness of the crops. No one should ever _show_ tact. He will only be caught _flagrante delicto_. Mr. Torrens is perfectly well aware of what is occurring; and, when he lies still and unresponsive with his eyes closed, is not really resting after exertion, which is the nurse's interpretation of the action, but trying to think out something he wants to say to the Earl, and how to say it. It is not so easy as light jesting. The nurse telegraphs silently lipwise that the patient will doze now for a quarter of an hour till breakfast; and the visitor, alive to the call of discretion, has gone out gently before the patient knows he has left the bedside. Things that creak watch their opportunity whenever they hear silence. So the Earl's gentle exit ends in a musical and penetrating _arpeggio_ of a door-hinge, equal to the betrayal of Masonic secrecy if delivered at the right moment. "Is Mrs. Bailey gone?" says the patient, ascribing the wrong cause to it. "His lordship has gone, Mr. Torrens. He thought you were dropping off." "Stop him--stop him! Say I have something particular to say. Do stop him!" It must be something very particular, Nurse thinks. But in any case the patient's demand would have to be complied with. So the Earl is recaptured and brought back. "Is it anything I can do for you, Mr. Torrens? I am quite at your service." "Yes--something of importance to me. Is Mrs. Bailey there?" "She is just going." She had not intended to do so. But this was a hint clearly. It was accepted. "All clear!" says the Earl. "And the door closed." "My sister has promised to ask the Countess and your daughter--Lady Gwen, is it not?" "That is my daughter's name, Gwendolen. 'Has promised to ask them' ... what?" "To give me an opportunity before I go of thanking them both for all the great kindness they have shown me, and of apologizing for my wish to defer the interview." "Yes--but why me?... I mean that that is all quite in order, but how do I come in?" As the speaker's voice smiles as well as his face, his hearer's blindness does not matter. "Only this way. You know the doctors say my eyesight is not incurable--probably will come all to rights of itself...." "Yes--and then?" "I want them--her ladyship and ..." "My wife and daughter. I understand." "... I want them to know as little about it as possible; to know _nothing_ about it _if_ possible. You knew very little about it yourself till just now." "I was misled--kindly, I know--but misled for all that. And the appearance is so extraordinary. Nobody could guess...."