Page:The Painted Veil - Maugham - 1925.djvu/75

 she was nervous, and she could only discern a strange watchfulness. How could he look so steadily? He did not even blink.

“The French nuns are doing what they can. They’ve turned the orphanage into a hospital. But the people are dying like flies. I’ve offered to go and take charge.”

“You?”

She started violently. Her first thought was that if he went she would be free and without let or hindrance could see Charlie. But the thought shocked her. She felt herself go scarlet. Why did he watch her like that? She looked away in embarrassment.

“Is that necessary?” she faltered.

“There’s not a foreign doctor in the place.”

“But you’re not a doctor, you’re a bacteriologist.”

“I am an M.D., you know, and before I specialised I did a good deal of general work in a hospital. The fact that I’m first and foremost a bacteriologist is all to the good. It will be an admirable chance for research work.”

He spoke almost flippantly and when she glanced at him she was surprised to see in his eyes a gleam of mockery. She could not understand.

“But won’t it be awfully dangerous?”

“Awfully.”

He smiled. It was a derisive grimace. She leaned her forehead on her hand. Suicide. It was nothing short of that. Dreadful! She had not thought he would take it like that. She couldn’t let him do that. It was cruel. It was not her fault