The following morning found him in the doctor's waiting room, a black cigar turning unlighted in his teeth. Hill was exchanging greetings with his hostess, and salutations around the table. But for the next few days he avoided Cheveney like the plague. She was perhaps three-and-twenty, and very pink and healthy-looking, showing a great deal of white and rounded neck above her business-like but altogether feminine blouse, and a good deal of plump, gesticulating forearm out of her short sleeve. She would meet him upon this ground: he should never be given the slightest hint that she was unhappy. "Your answer!" cried Sheppard. That he had resolved upon its execution, whatever it might be, was evident from his saying aloud,— "I will do it.
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