When it was all over and Isolde had given her
last wail of sorrow, Arthur was so exhausted that he could hardly stir.
But they went out with the crowd, and while they were waiting in the
vestibule for space to move in, a common friend came up to them. This
was Arbuthnot, an eye-specialist, whom Susie had met on the Riviera and
who, she presently discovered, was a colleague of Arthur's at St Luke's.
He was a prosperous bachelor with grey hair and a red, contented face,
well-to-do, for his practice was large, and lavish with his money. He
had taken Susie out to luncheon once or twice in Monte Carlo; for he
liked women, pretty or plain, and she attracted him by her good-humour.
He rushed up to them now and wrung their hands. He spoke in a jovial
voice.
'The very people I wanted to see! Why haven't you been to see me, you
wicked woman? I'm sure your eyes are in a deplorable condition.'
'Do you think I would let a bold, bad man like you stare into them with
an ophthalmoscope?' laughed Susie.
'Now look here, I want you both to do me a great favour.
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