I hope we shall meet some day in clear weather."
As the doctor said that, following a tender thought of the girl, he
glanced round the room and at Cuckoo. "I hope so," he repeated. Then,
rather abruptly:
"Two or three nights ago I went to dine with Mr. Addison. He was out. He
was here with you."
Cuckoo got red. She could still be very sensitive with a few people, and
perhaps Mrs. Brigg and her kind had trained her into irritable suspicion
of suspicion in others.
"Only for a friendly visit," she said hastily. "Nothin' else. He would
stop."
"I understand perfectly," the doctor said gently. Cuckoo was reassured.
"Did he say as he'd been?"
"Yes."
Cuckoo looked at the doctor and a world of reproach dawned in her eyes.
"I say," she said, "you haven't done nothin'. He's worse than ever. He's
gettin'--oh, he's gettin' cruel bad."
Tears came up over the world of reproach.
"It's all him, all Valentine," she said.
And Doctor Levillier was moved to cast reticence, the usual loyalty of
one man to another who has been his friend, away. Somehow the dead body
of Rip lying in the snow put that old friendship far off. And also an
inward thrill caught him near to Cuckoo. An impulse, swift and vital,
thrust his mind to hers.
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