The first attack had occurred about
three weeks ago. It was just after Hilda had gone back to school. He
wasn't sure whether he ought to send for Hilda, or not. Her mother
didn't want him to--not just yet. Of course, if she got worse, he would
have to. What did Joan think?--did she think there was any real danger?
Joan could not say. So much depended upon the general state of health.
There was the case of her own father. Of course she would always be
subject to attacks. But this one would have warned her to be careful.
Phillips thought that living out of town might be better for her, in the
future--somewhere in Surrey, where he could easily get up and down. He
could sleep himself at the club on nights when he had to be late.
They talked without looking at one another. They did not speak about
themselves.
Mrs. Phillips was in bed when Joan went up to say good-bye. "You'll come
again soon?" she asked, and Joan promised. "You've made me so happy,"
she whispered. The nurse was in the room.
They discussed politics in the train. Phillips had found more support
for his crusade against Carleton than he had expected.
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