slowly to herself, 'Let the end come. I have done with the struggle:
I submit.'

She drew her veil over her face, bowed to the Doctor, and left
the room.

He rang the bell, and followed her into the hall. As the servant
closed the door on her, a sudden impulse of curiosity--
utterly unworthy of him, and at the same time utterly irresistible--
sprang up in the Doctor's mind. Blushing like a boy, he said
to the servant, 'Follow her home, and find out her name.'
For one moment the man looked at his master, doubting if his own ears
had not deceived him. Doctor Wybrow looked back at him in silence.
The submissive servant knew what that silence meant--he took his hat
and hurried into the street.

The Doctor went back to the consulting-room. A sudden revulsion
of feeling swept over his mind. Had the woman left an infection
of wickedness in the house, and had he caught it? What devil had
possessed him to degrade himself in the eyes of his own servant?
He had behaved infamously--he had asked an honest man, a man who had
served him faithfully for years, to turn spy! Stung by the bare
thought of it, he ran out into the hall again, and opened the door.
The servant had disappeared; it was too late to call him back.
But one refuge from his contempt for himself was now open to him--
the refuge of work. He got into his carriage and went his rounds among
his patients.

If the famous physician could have shaken his own reputation,
he would have done it that afternoon. Never before had he made