to be one of those very self-sure young women who despise procrastination, and for very shame Pentreath had bluffed before her and proceeded to deal with that hypothetical fracture, when he had known in his heart that old Tombs the senior partner would have been much more competent to deal with it. For with his hands Pentreath had always been a nervous fumbler.
"I put the thing in plaster, Sorrell, and of course I made the girl move her fingers. But when I took the fracture down—a week ago; it looked all wrong."
"They do, sometimes," said Kit.
"And then—you know—one of those silly panics got me,—just as they used to during exams. I bluffed. And now—I simply can't make up my mind"
"Whether there was a fracture?"
"O,—yes, there was a fracture. I had it X-rayed. But whether I"
"Didn't you have it rayed again?"
"No."
"My dear old chap, why not?"
"Simply—because I was afraid,—afraid of what I might see."
He gave Christopher a mute and deprecating look.
"Sounds too futile, doesn't it? But the case has begun to worry me to death. Of course I ought to have gone to one of my partners,—but it seemed such a confession of helplessness. I suppose it is difficult for you to understand"
"You can't make up your mind—whether the girl's wrist is right or wrong?"
"Exactly. It must sound absurd to you."
"Not a bit."
He was aware of Pentreath's clasped hands with their fingers interlocked twisted between his knees.
"I suppose you could not spare the time?"
"I'll come down to-morrow, if you like."
Pentreath's eyes loved him.
"Great man! You see, the girl's father is a rather suspicious sort of chap, interfering, funny. He had the cheek to take the splints off the other evening. Tackled me about the girl's wrist—next morning. You know how those people like to hint"
