"
He freed his hand for a moment to grasp hers.
"I shall follow her to London," he said, "and woo her there."
She smiled at him gratefully and began to speak of other things.
The doctor was out, to her evident relief. Babbacombe wanted to go in
search of another, but she would not be persuaded.
"I'm sure it will be all right to-morrow. If not, I shall be in town,
and I can go to a doctor there. Please don't make a fuss about it. It's
too absurd."
Reluctantly he abandoned the argument, and they followed the hounds in
the motor instead.
VIII
Babbacombe's guests departed upon the following day. Cynthia was among
the first to leave. With a flushed face and sparkling eyes she made her
farewells, and even Babbacombe, closely as he observed her, detected no
hint of strain in her demeanour.
Returning from the station in the afternoon after speeding some of his
guests, he dropped into the local bank to change a cheque. The manager,
with whom he was intimate, chanced to be present, and led him off to his
own room.
"By the way," he said, "we were just going to send you notice of an
overdraft. That last big cheque of yours has left you a deficit."
Babbacombe stared at him. He had barely a fortnight before deposited a
large sum of money at the bank, and he had not written any large cheque
since.
"I don't understand," he said. "What cheque?"
The manager looked at him sharply.
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