The doctor, who had ceased eating and half risen to his feet at the
commencement of this little scene, watched it throughout; at first
indifferent, a prey to his own worries, but soon in quickening interest,
shrewd enquiry and finally in dawning comprehension.
"Holy Mother of Mercy, so that's the lay of the land, is it?" and his
loose lips shaped themselves to a whistle, yet emitted no sound. To
obliterate all signs of which tendency to vulgar expression of
enlightenment he rubbed moustache, mouth and chin with his napkin,
studying Carteret closely meanwhile.
"In the pink of condition, by Gad--good for a liberal twenty years yet,
and more--bar accident. Indefinite postponement of the grand climacteric
in this case.--All the same a leetle, lee-tie bit dangerous, I'm
thinking, for both, if she tumbles to it."
Then aloud--"Has the poor darling girl grasped the meaning of her
father's illness do you make out, Colonel grasped the ugly
eventualities of it?"
Carteret slowly brought his glance to bear on the speaker.
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