Free Doctor Raoul's Romance by Penelope Butler Page A

kept his finger on her pulse. His eyes were very intent.
    Gillian heaved a sigh and leaned back with her eyes closed, half-conscious.
    The minutes passed. An hour ... Two hours ...
    Dr. Dubois still stayed there, motionless. Adrien had sat down on a little stool, the other side of the bed, and she, too, waited.
    There was no sound but Gillian’s heavy breathing in the room. Through the open window came, occasionally, a train whistle, the faint distant rumble of traffic, a child’s laughter ...
    Presently there came a change. The breathing became regular, peaceful. Gillian’s face, which had been fevered, had now a soft rose flush.
    Dr. Dubois relaxed a little.
    “ Ca va mieux ...” he breathed. “ Dieu merci .”
    “ ‘ Thank God’...” Somehow Adrien was surprised and touched to hear him say that.
    He smiled at Adrien, all personal feelings put on one side, leaving only for the moment the professional intimacy of a doctor and nurse who had worked together on a difficult case, and worked well, and who feel that success is in sight, and are humble and grateful.
    “Slip away and stretch your legs for a few minutes if you like, Nurse. You must be stiff, sitting there.”
    Adrien did not really want to go now; she knew that in a few minutes Gillian would probably recover consciousness, and she wanted to be there. But she was concerned for Nicholas. What agonies must he be enduring; while he waited?
    All embarrassments, all revelations of the night before forgotten in the stress of the morning, she had tried to persuade him to go to the office. She knew that Gillian had tried to make him go, as well. But he had refused all entreaties.
    She found him in the garden, sprawling his long length under a tree. He was turning over the leaves of a newspaper, without reading a word. His pipe was gritted between his teeth. He had not noticed it had gone out.
    He sprang to his feet, when he saw Adrien coming toward him through the trees. He wanted to ask, “How is she? How is she, Adrien?” But the words died on his lips. He could not speak. He felt himself trembling from head to foot.
    “She’s doing very well so far, Nicholas. Her pulse is much stronger.”
    The world swam around Nicholas. He leaned against a tree for support, despising himself for his own weakness. With dazzled eyes he saw Adrien as an angel with good tidings.
    “I’m sorry. I ... I don’t really know what I’m saying. Is she—will she really be all right? Oh, Adrien, tell me the truth, please!”
    “Yes,” said Adrien, certainty in her voice, though she knew very well that they were not out of the woods yet, that there would be many crises ahead. “Yes, she’ll be all right, Nicholas.”
    “Can I see her?”
    “In a little while. I’ll fetch you.”
    “There won’t be ... there won’t be a ... relapse?”
    “No, Nicholas.”
    There might be, of course. It was, she knew, very possible. But she would not admit the doubt to Nicholas. Everything must go right now for Nicholas and Gillian. Things would go well; she was sure of it. Anything else would be too cruel.
    On wings of elation, perilously poised, because she had seen Nicholas’s unbelieving happiness, Adrien went back to her patient.
    Gillian had her eyes open now, and was looking about in a puzzled sort of way.
    “Where am I? What’s happening? I feel a bit odd.”
    Dr. Dubois smiled easily.
    “You’re doing very well, Mrs. Renton. Just relax now. Everything is going excellently. We shall have you running around in no time.”
    Her head jerked a little, enquiringly.
    “Running around? Oh yes, I remember now, this is the special treatment, isn’t it? The treatment that’s going to kill me or cure me. Well, how am I doing? I’m still alive—at least I think I am, though I must say I feel strange. Am I being a good patient, Dr. Dubois?”
    “Very good. You take first prize, Mrs. Renton.”
    “Thank you, Doctor. May I choose it—the prize, I mean? Don’t look anxious. It’s