She must have slept deeply, for it took her a full moment to realize that
some one in the next room was talking and--saying things!

"No, she's asleep, Huntter. She looks worn out. We must get a night
nurse. Well, I have only this to say: God knows I pity you, but my duty
compels me to say that--you should not marry! The chances are about even;
but--you shouldn't take the risk."

A groan brought Priscilla to her feet, alert and quivering. Like a sudden
and blinding shock she understood, what seemed to her, a whole life
history. She stumbled to the door and faced Dr. Hapgood, hat in hand,
keen-eyed, but detached.

"You slept--heavily?"

"Yes, Doctor Hapgood."

"I am going to send a night nurse to relieve you. When did you say your
next engagement began?"

"March fifth."

"Well, you will need a week to recuperate. Make your plans accordingly.
Do you understand?"

"Yes."

Did he suspect? Did he warn her? But his next words were kindness alone.