Satisfied at last that the place was perfectly
cleared, he sat down in the salon and continued his business
correspondence with the noble family and the solicitors. Thus engaged,
he heard footsteps outside, footsteps on the gravel, footsteps on the
doorstop. He got up, not without the slightest show of nervousness, and
opened the door. Lord Harry was right. There stood the woman who had
been his first nurse--the woman who overheard and watched--the woman
who suspected. The suspicion and the intention of watching were legible
in her eyes still. She had come back to renew her watch.
In her hand she carried her box, which she had lugged along from the
place where the omnibus had deposited her. She made as if she were
stepping in; but the big form of the doctor barred the way.
"Oh!" he said carelessly, "it is you. Who told you to come back?"
"Is my mistress at home?"
"No; she is not." He made no movement to let her pass.
"I will come in, please, and wait for her."
He still stood in the way.
"What time will she return?"
"Have you heard from her?"
"No."
"Did she leave orders that you were to follow her?"
"No; none that I received. I thought--"
"Servants should never think.
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