Most people,
however stupid, however bored, have some air, when in society, of
listening even when they do not speak, of giving some sort of attention
to those about them, or to the place in which they find themselves. They
glance this way and that, however phlegmatically. They bend in attention
or lean back in observation. It is seen that they are conscious of their
environment. But Julian was engrossed with fatigue. The lids drooped over
his eyes. His face wore a leaden hue. Even his lips were colourless. He
ate slowly and mechanically till his plate was empty. Then he laid down
his fork and remained motionless, his eyes still cast down towards the
tablecloth, his two hands laid against the table edge, while the fingers
were extended upon the cloth on either side of his plate. Cuckoo looked
at him with terror, wondering if he were ill. Then, glancing up, she met
the eyes of the doctor. They seemed to bid her take no heed of Julian's
condition, and she did not look at him again just then. Trying to control
her fears, she listened to Valentine's conversation with the doctor.
"Doctors are sceptics by profession," she heard him say.
"I believe in individualism too firmly to allow that any beliefs or
unbeliefs can be professional, Cresswell.
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