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do—” Kit stopped suddenly, but she had already said too much.
    “So there is something,” he said softly. “Yes, decidedly, we must have a talk ... soon!”
    A few days later Victor came to spend the weekend. It was the first time since Kit had come to Moneyhill that he had stayed for longer than a few hours, and she felt a certain amount of apprehension, though she could not pin down the reason for it. Victor, after all, was showing absolutely no interest in her personally, and surely he would have found some opportunity for doing so before this if he had wanted to.
    In this she proved to be right. Even before he actually arrived at Moneyhill, Victor found—or made—an opportunity for a confidential talk.
    Returning from one of her short, brisk walks, Kit realized that a car had drawn up beside her. Victor leaned out.
    “Hello, Kit!” he said breezily. “Jump in and I’ll give you a lift back to the house.”
    One of Victor’s characteristics that had always irritated Kit was his supreme confidence that she would be only too pleased to fall in with his wishes. Despite her final dismissal of him four years ago, his complacent smile and the way he leaned over to open the passenger door showed that he had not changed in this respect “Thank you very much, Victor,” she said pleasantly, “but I came out for a walk to get some exercise and fresh air. And one doesn’t get either in a car, does one?”
    Victor frowned.
    “All right, I’ll be frank,” he conceded. “I want to have a talk with you ... about Mr. Baylis’s condition.”
    Instantly, Kit was on her guard.
    “Dr. Heathfield or Dr. Grainger will be able to give you far more satisfaction than I can.”
    Victor surveyed her suspiciously.
    “You’re being very cagey, aren’t you? That usually means things aren’t too good, doesn’t it?”
    “It means that nurses don’t discuss their patients—even with old friends,” she added, guessing that the words were trembling on his lips.
    Victor fidgeted momentarily with the steering wheel.
    “Well, perhaps you’re right,” he admitted grudgingly. “Though all I wanted to know is how I’m to behave when I’m with Mr. Baylis. I mean, what orders have you been given about the way he’s to be treated? Surely you can tell me that!”
    “Mrs. Baylis—”
    “My dear girl, she takes caution to an extreme degree,” Victor said impatiently. “Or so it seems to me.”
    “I can only tell you what Dr. Heathfield told Mr. Baylis,” she said coldly. And practically word for word she repeated the warnings Jason had so emphatically given.
    “Hm. And how long does that stand?” he asked when she had finished.
    “Until Dr. Heathfield gives fresh instructions,” Kit said firmly. “And now, I really must get on—”
    “Wait a minute, Kit,” Victor urged. “Did Heathfield say whether Mr. Baylis might talk business?”
    “Not in my hearing,” Kit admitted carefully. “But, as I said, he made it very clear that Mr. Baylis must not overtax himself in any way. I would say that covers business discussions.”
    “Well, yes, if it was anything worrying,” Victor agreed. “But good news ... As a matter of fact, Kit, I’ve just finished going through the firm’s accounts for the year. It’s been a marvelously good year. Surely it couldn’t worry the old man to be told that?”
    “I’m sorry, Victor, I can’t give you an opinion,” Kit said firmly. “I simply don’t know.”
    “You’re not very helpful, are you?” Victor grumbled.
    Kit shrugged her shoulders.
    “Why not phone Dr. Heathfield or Dr. Grainger and ask them?” she suggested.
    “Oh, that’s making altogether too much of it,” Victor said impatiently. “Better just avoid the subject, I suppose.”
    “Well, if you can’t be bothered to take the obvious way out, it’s no doubt better to err on the safe side,” Kit told him.
    And without waiting for his reply, she turned away from the car and resumed her walk back to the