‘That depends. Lady Frances, on the kind of germ cultivated.’ Idiotic conversation, thought Frankie, and why should it make me feel creepy, but it does!
She said flippantly: ‘I expect I’m developing all sorts of dark qualities.’ He looked at her and said calmly: ‘Oh, no, I don’t think so. Lady Frances. I think you would always be on the side of law and order.’ Was there a faint emphasis on the word law?
Suddenly, across the table, Mrs Nicholson said: ‘My husband prides himself on summing up character.’ Dr Nicholson nodded his head gently.
‘Quite right, Moira. Little things interest me.’ He turned to Frankie again. ‘I had heard of your accident, you know. One thing about it intrigued me very much.’ ‘Yes?’ said Frankie, her heart beating suddenly.
‘The doctor who was passing – the one who brought you in here.’ Yes?’ ‘He must have had a curious character – to turn his car before going to the rescue.’ ‘I don’t understand.’ ‘Of course not. You were unconscious. But young Reeves, the message boy, came from Staverley on his bicycle and no car passed him, yet he comes round the corner, finds the smash, and the doctor’s car pointing the same way he was going towards London. You see the point? The doctor did not come from the direction of Staveley so he must have come the other way, down the hill. But in that case his car should have been pointing towards Staverley. But it wasn’t. Therefore he must have turned it.’ ‘Unless he had come from Staverley some time before,’ said Frankie.
‘Then his car would have been standing there as you came down the hill. Was it?’ The pale-blue eyes were looking at her very intently through the thick glasses.
‘I don’t remember,’ said Frankie. ‘I don’t think so.’ ‘You sound like a detective, Jasper,’ said Mrs Nicholson.
‘And all about nothing at all.’ ‘Little things interest me,’ said Nicholson.
He turned to his hostess, and Frankie drew a breath of relief.
Why had he catechized her like that? How had he found out all about the accident? ‘Little things interest me,’ he had said.
Was that all there was to it?
Frankie remembered the dark-blue Talbot saloon, and the fact that Carstairs had been a Canadian. It seemed to her that Dr Nicholson was a sinister man.
She kept out of his way after dinner, attaching herself to the gentle, fragile Mrs Nicholson. She noticed that all the time Mrs Nicholson’s eyes still watched her husband. Was it love, Frankie wondered, or fear?
Nicholson devoted himself to Sylvia and at half-past ten he caught his wife’s eye and they rose to go.
‘Well,’ said Roger after they had gone, ‘what do you think of our Dr Nicholson? A very forceful personality, hasn’t he?’ I’m like Sylvia,’ said Frankie. ‘I don’t think I like him very much. I like her better.’ ‘Good-looking, but rather a little idiot,’ said Roger. ‘She either worships him or is scared to death of him -I don’t know which.’ ‘That’s just what I wondered,’ agreed Frankie.
‘I don’t like him,’ said Sylvia, ‘but I must admit that he’s got a lot of – of. force. I believe he’s cured drug takers in the most marvellous way. People whose relations despaired utterly.
They’ve gone there as a last hope and come out absolutely cured.’ ‘Yes,’ cried Henry Bassington-ffrench suddenly. ‘And do you know what goes on there? Do you know the awful suffering and mental torment? A man’s used to a drug and they cut him off it – cut him off it – till he goes raving mad for the lack of it and beats his head against the wall. That’s what he does – your “forceful” doctor tortures people – tortures them – sends them to Hell – drives them mad…’ He was shaking violently. Suddenly he turned and left the room.
Sylvia Bassington-ffrench looked startled.
‘What is the matter with Henry?’ she said wonderingly. ‘He seems very upset.’ Frankie and Roger dared not look at each other.
‘He’s not looked well all evening,’ ventured Frankie.
‘No. I noticed that. He’s very moody lately. I wish he hadn’t given up riding. Oh, by the way, Dr Nicholson invited Tommy over tomorrow, but I don’t like him going there very much not with all those queer nerve cases and dope-takers.’ ‘I don’t suppose the doctor would allow him to come into contact with them,’ said Roger. ‘He seems very fond of children.’ ‘Yes, I think it’s a disappointment he hasn’t got any of his own. Probably to her, too. She looks very sad – and terribly delicate.’ ‘She’s like a sad Madonna,’ said Frankie.