A glance at his watch informed him that he must soon begin his rounds
among the patients who were waiting for him at their own houses.
He decided forthwith on taking the only wise course that was open
under the circumstances. In other words, he decided on taking
to flight.

'Is the carriage at the door?' he asked.

'Yes, sir.'

'Very well. Open the house-door for me without making any noise,
and leave the lady in undisturbed possession of the consulting-room.
When she gets tired of waiting, you know what to tell her.
If she asks when I am expected to return, say that I dine at my club,
and spend the evening at the theatre. Now then, softly, Thomas!
If your shoes creak, I am a lost man.'

He noiselessly led the way into the hall, followed by the servant
on tip-toe.

Did the lady in the consulting-room suspect him? or did Thomas's
shoes creak, and was her sense of hearing unusually keen?
Whatever the explanation may be, the event that actually happened
was beyond all doubt. Exactly as Doctor Wybrow passed his
consulting-room, the door opened--the lady appeared on the threshold--
and laid her hand on his arm.

'I entreat you, sir, not to go away without letting me speak
to you first.'