But he was very kind. He gave her the best things at the table, he had
a bottle of slightly sweet, delicious golden wine brought out for
dinner, knowing she would prefer it to the burgundy. She felt herself
esteemed, needed almost.
As they took coffee in the library, there was a soft, very soft
knocking at the door. He started, and called 'Come in.' The timbre of
his voice, like something vibrating at high pitch, unnerved Gudrun. A
nurse in white entered, half hovering in the doorway like a shadow. She
was very good-looking, but strangely enough, shy and self-mistrusting.
'The doctor would like to speak to you, Mr Crich,' she said, in her
low, discreet voice.
'The doctor!' he said, starting up. 'Where is he?'
'He is in the dining-room.'
'Tell him I'm coming.'
He drank up his coffee, and followed the nurse, who had dissolved like
a shadow.
'Which nurse was that?' asked Gudrun.
'Miss Inglis--I like her best,' replied Winifred.
After a while Gerald came back, looking absorbed by his own thoughts,
and having some of that tension and abstraction which is seen in a
slightly drunken man.
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