But Geoffrey was gone, fleeing into the house with the sound of
stormy sobs chasing him like Furies. He never stopped till he
reached his own room, where he flung himself into his chair in most
unprofessional agitation. The window was open--what a fool he was to
leave windows open!--and the sound followed him; he could not shut
it out. Dreadful sobs, choking, agonising; he felt, as if he saw it,
the whole slender figure convulsed with them. Good heavens! the girl
would be in convulsions if she went on at this rate.

Now the sobs died away into long moans, into quivering breaths; now
they broke out again, insistent, terrible. Broken words among them,
too.

"What shall I do? Oh, dear! oh, dear! what shall I do?"

Geoffrey, who had been trying to look over some papers, started up
and paced the room hurriedly. "This--this is very curious!" he was
trying to say to himself. "Hysteria pure and simple--very interesting--
I must note the duration of the paroxysms. Good God! can't somebody
stop her? perfectly inhuman, to let a creature go on like that!"

He was at the door, with some vague idea of alarming the house, when
a soft knock was heard on the other side. He flung the door open,
and startled Miss Vesta so that she gave a little cry of dismay, and
retreated to the head of the stairs. "Pray excuse me, Doctor Strong,"
she said. "I see that you are occupied; I pray you to excuse me!"

"No, no!" said Geoffrey, hurriedly. "I am not--it's nothing at all.
What can I do for you, Miss Vesta? Do come in, please!"