Allan thanked him and came in, but the puzzled expression was still on his
face, and through the first moments of their talk he was very
absent-minded. Roger's feeling of guilt increased, and he cursed himself
for a meddlesome fool.
"Look here, Baird," he blurted out, "there's something I think you ought to
know." Allan slightly turned his head, and Roger reddened a little. "The
worst thing about living in a house chock full of meddling women is that
you get to be one yourself," he growled. "And the fact is--" he cleared his
throat--"I've put my foot in it, Baird," he said. "I was fool enough the
other day to quote you to Edith."
"To what effect?"
"That if Deborah keeps on like this she'll be an old woman at thirty-five."
Allan sat up in his chair:
"Was Edith here this afternoon?"
"She was," said Roger.
"Say no more."
Baird had a wide, likable, generous mouth which wrinkled easily into a
smile. He leaned back now and enjoyed himself. He puffed a little cloud of
smoke, looked over at Roger and chuckled aloud. And Roger chuckled with
relief. "What a decent chap he is," he thought.
"I'm sorry, of course," he said to Baird. "I thought of trying to
explain--"
"Don't," said Allan. "Leave it alone. It won't do Deborah any harm--may
even do her a little good. After all, I'm her physician--"
"Are you?" Roger asked with a twinkle. "I thought upstairs you were
dismissed.
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