‘Don’t lose your temper again. Is all your house on the same scale of magnificence as this, Annabel?” she asked, looking round. Then her fingers moved. I have a weapon—a knife—and if you attempt to open the door, will plunge it to my heart. The doctor expected her to seize upon the subtle inference that there was something furtive, even criminal, in the manner the patient set this obligation upon humanity at large, to look after him in the event of his death. Get me an interview with her. She had one idea, she found, very clear in her mind—that she would get a Research Scholarship, and so contrive another year in the laboratory.
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