"He's very fond of you, I think," she went on.

"He reposes entire confidence in me," said Beaumaroy, with a touch of
assumed pompousness.

"Those were his very words!" cried Mary, laughing again. "And he said it
just in that way! How clever of you to guess!"

"Not so very. He says it to me six times a week."

Mary had risen, about to take her leave, but to her surprise Beaumaroy
went on quickly, with one of his confidential smiles, "And now I'm going
to show you that I have the utmost confidence in you. Please sit down
again, Dr. Arkroyd. The matter concerns your patient just as much as
myself, or I wouldn't trouble you with it, at any rate I shouldn't
venture to so early in our acquaintance. I want you to consider yourself
as Mr. Saffron's medical adviser, and, also, to try to imagine yourself
my friend."

"I've every inclination to be your friend, but I hardly know you, Mr.
Beaumaroy."

"And feel a few doubts about me? From what you've heard from myself, and
perhaps from others?"

The wind swished outside; save for that, the little room seemed very
still. The professional character of the interview did not save it, for
Mary Arkroyd, from a sudden and rather unwelcome sense of intimacy, of an
intimacy thrust upon her, though not so much by her companion as by
circumstances. She answered rather stiffly, "Perhaps I have some doubts."