"You gave it up?" Her voice was suddenly anxious.
"Yes. In the nick of time I came across an old friend--a friend of my student days, who had been looking for me, unknown to me, for months. He wanted me to do some research work for him--work that necessitated visiting hospitals in Paris and Berlin and Vienna--and I accepted the commission only too gladly."
"And--you gave up the terrible thing?"
"Yes. The new interest saved me, you know. I came back, after some months of hard work, and found my friend on the eve of starting with an expedition for Central Africa, to study tropical diseases; and had there been a place for me I would have gone too. But there wasn't; and I was a bit fagged, so after doing locum work for another friend for some time I looked about for a practice, bought this one--and here I am."
"Dr. Anstice "--she spoke shyly, though her eyes met his bravely--"you won't ever take that dreadful stuff again, will you? I am quite sure," said Iris Wayne, "that that is not the way out."
"No," he answered steadily, "you are quite right. It isn't. But I haven't found the way out yet." He paused a moment; then held out his hand, and she put her uninjured left hand into it rather wonderingly. "Still, I will not seek that way out again. I will promise--no, I won't promise, for I'm only human and I couldn't bear to break a promise to you--but I will do my best to avoid the deadly thing for the rest of my life."
He pressed her hand gently, then dropped it as a sudden loud knock sounded on the door.
"Come in." They turned to see who the visitor might be; and to the surprise of both in walked Bruce Cheniston, an unmistakable frown on his face.
"Hullo! It is you, after all, Iris!" Anstice noted the use of her Christian name, and in the same moment remembered there was a long-standing friendship between the families. "I thought it was your motor-cycle I found by the roadside, with a lanky yokel mounting guard over it; and he said something about an accident----"
"Nothing very serious." Iris smiled at him in friendly fashion, and his face cleared. "I skidded--or the bicycle did--and I fell off and cut my wrist."
"I found Miss Wayne sitting by the roadside binding up her wound," interposed Anstice rather coldly, "and persuaded her to come in here and have it properly seen to. If it had not been for the rain she would have been on her way home by now."