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I've made a slave of my wife, and now I've been keeping you out of London all this time." As he spoke, his voice grew warmer. His reserve seemed to be melting, the friend to be stirring in the patient. Although certainly he did not realize it, the absence of his wife had already made a difference in his feeling towards Isaacson.
Yet something in Isaacson at this moment almost wished that Nigel contemplated marriage his secret admiration of the virtue in his friend. Such an act would be of a piece with Nigel's character, whereas a liaison and yet Nigel was no saint. Isaacson thought what the world would say, and suddenly he knew the reality of his affection for Nigel.
This time he saw a small boat detach itself from the side of the Loulia, creep upon the river almost imperceptibly. The doll was still moving by the rail. Then, as the boat dropped down the river, coming towards Isaacson, it ceased to move. Isaacson laid down the glass. As he did so, he saw the crafty eyes of Hassan watching him from the lower deck.
The look of pride, or perhaps of self-respect, which Doctor Isaacson had seen born as if in answer to his detrimental thought of her, stayed in this face, which was turned towards the light. He realized that in this woman there was much will, perhaps much cunning, and that she was a past mistress in the art of reading men. "Well," she said, after a minute of silence, "what do you make of it?"
He would not bear to be driven away. If Hartley was governed by fear, well and good. If not, Isaacson would stand a scene, provoke a scandal, even defy Nigel for his own sake. Would that be necessary? Well, he would soon know. He would know that night. Hartley had promised to summon him in consultation that night. "Meanwhile I simply must rest." He spoke to himself as a doctor.
"Didn't you come in last night, and force a sleeping draught upon him?" "I certainly gave him something to make him sleep." "And it didn't make him sleep." "Because before it had had time to take effect he received a great shock," Isaacson said, quietly. She moved. "A great shock?" She stared at him. "At night, upon water, sound travels a very long way. Have you never noticed that?" he asked her.
Directly I do, I shall be glad to call you in." Isaacson looked down at the rug beneath his chair. "You consider Mr. Armine going on satisfactorily?" he asked, looking up. "It's a severe case of sunstroke. It will take time and care. I have decided to stay aboard for a few days to devote myself entirely to it." "Very good of you." "I have no doubt whatever of very soon pulling my patient round."
From above the blue light looked down like a watchful eye. The darkness of the water, like streaming ebony, took the felucca and the fateful voices. And the tide gave its help to the oarsmen. The lights began to dwindle when Isaacson said to the men: "Hush!" He held up his hand. The Nubians lay on their oars, surprised. The singing died in their throats.
Again that night as Isaacson sat alone reading Nigel's letter that apparently unimportant fact seemed to bristle up from the paper and confront him. What was the meaning of that strange renunciation? What had prompted it? "She packed off her French maid so as to be quite free." Free for what? The doctor lit a cigar, and leaned back in a deep arm-hair.
"From to-night I take charge of this case." Mrs. Armine stood up. She was taller than Isaacson, and now she stood looking down upon him. "Nigel won't have you!" she said. "He must." "He won't unless I wish it." "You will never wish it." "No." "But you will pretend to wish it." She continued to look down in silence. At last she breathed, "Why?"
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