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Updated: June 3, 2025
But even now I shall not get the credit; he will have that. It was a low, scurrilous thing to do; for he was my commanding officer, and I could not say No." "I gave you the option," blurted out Michael sullenly. Jem took no notice of the interruption, which only had the effect of making Mark Ruthine move up a few paces nearer.
Her voice died away into a whisper, and when that became inaudible her lips went on moving, still framing the same words over and over again. In this manner they waited, with that dull senselessness to the flight of time which follows on a great shock. They all heard the clatter of horses' feet on the gravel of the avenue, and probably they all divined that Mark Ruthine had sent for medical help.
No one had spoken a word since Mark Ruthine had told them that Seymour Michael was dead. There are some situations in life wherein we suddenly realise what an inadequate thing human speech is. There are some things that others know which we have never told them, and would ever be unable to tell them. There are some feelings within us for which no language can find expression. Mrs.
She had dispensed for a village population at home, and knew a little medicine. Ruthine encouraged her to come, gave her the freedom of his medicine chests, and all the while he watched her. She interested him. There were so many things which he could not reconcile. In some ways she was quite a different woman.
In answer to the bell, rung a second time, the servant came, looking white and scared. "Show Dr. Ruthine Mr. Arthur's room," said Jem; and Ruthine took Arthur up in his arms like a child. When they had gone there was a silence. Mrs. Agar made no attempt to follow. She sat down again on the sofa, swaying backwards and forwards.
"No," replied Ruthine, "I leave the ship here." The small man glanced from the face of one to the other with something sly and uneasy in his eyes. Jem Agar had altered since he saw him last in the little tent far up on the slopes of the Pamir. He was older and graver. There was also a wisdom in his eyes that steadfast wise look that comes to eyes which have looked too often on death.
"I told your brother," answered the General with dogged indifference. "Only?" There was an ugly gleam in the blue eyes. "I didn't tell him not to tell the others." "But you suggested it to him," put in Mark Ruthine, with the knowledge of mankind that was his. "What has it got to do with you, at any rate?" snapped Seymour Michael. "Nothing," replied Ruthine, looking across at Agar.
A stewardess awoke Mark Ruthine up before it was light. He followed the woman to number seventy-seven cabin. There he found Norah Hood, dressed, lying quietly on her berth dead. A bottle one of his bottles from the medicine-chest stood on the table beside her. "I have heard that there is corn in Egypt."
"Can't you find something more useful to do than that?" Jem looked at her, first with surprise and then with something very nearly approaching contempt. "I am waiting," he replied, "for Ruthine. He is a doctor." "Who wants a doctor now? What is the good of a doctor now now that Seymour is dead? I don't know what he is doing here, at any rate, meddling." "Arthur wants a doctor," replied Jem.
Already Ruthine could be heard giving his orders to the gardeners and other servants who had gathered round him in a wonderfully short space of time. Dora passed into the library first, treading carefully over the broken glass, and Mrs. Agar followed her without appearing to notice the sound of breakage beneath her feet.
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