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shoulder, “Oh, dear. You must be very clever.”
    Bill said, “We might get Miss Fenley on that biceps femoris of yours, Miss Markman. As you’re not working now I wouldn’t advise the cortisone. Just rest the leg for a few days in the position I explained to you, and then see me again. You may find the pain will let up as the climate changes.”
    “You’re very kind.”
    Bill opened the door. “And you’re very brave,” he murmured suavely. “Take your time.”
    He closed the door quietly, came behind the desk. “Sit down again, Miss Fenley. Cigarette?”
    “No, thank you.”
    Something in her voice made him look at her, directly. With a half-smile he said, nodding towards the door, “Nice woman, that. Did a year at nursing, she told me, and it nearly killed her. She’s already had successful therapy for that leg muscle, so it’s quite possible we’ll be able to help her. I’d prefer to have a report from her own doctor, but failing that, we’ll work something out, if it becomes necessary.”
    “I came to see you about Deva Wadia,” she reminded him.
    “Don’t go acid on me because I suggested you might be able to help someone else.” He was maddeningly unruffled as he took from a drawer the letter Pat had given him yesterday. “What is Deva’s present diet?”
    “Meatless—her family are almost vegetarian. As you probably know, there are several Indians on the kitchen staff and they prepare whatever Mrs. Lai orders for herself and Deva. The basis seems to be rice, brown sugar, nuts and fruits. Deva eats fish occasionally, but not eggs and cheese.”
    “Sounds monotonous, and she’s naturally anaemic. I’ll give you two kinds of vitamin capsules, and in a week or so we might start injections for the anaemia. It’s about a month to Ceylon. With luck we’ll have her fit enough to walk off the ship.”
    “Really? I do hope so!”
    His expression was quizzical. “As keen as all that to get on to Australia? How long is it since you last saw your uncle?”
    “I’ve never seen him.”
    “Good lord. Did he invite you out? “
    “No. He won’t even know I’m on my way till I leave Ceylon. I’ll send him a cable.” The ship took a decided tilt to port and involuntarily Pat clutched at the edge of the desk. She felt a fine sweat break out across the bridge of her nose and her cheekbones. “If you’ll give me those capsules I’ll ... go now.”
    “Been dosing yourself?” he asked quickly.
    “No. I’m not usually sickly, but I ... I haven’t eaten today.”
    “All right, relax.” He spoke on the intercom: “Cocktail gherkins and cream crackers, pronto.”
    “Why, Doctor,” said a hollow male voice in mock surprise. “You poor soul.”
    Bill flipped up the key, grinning. “Their jokes are cleaner than the medical type, and hammier. Don’t look so glassy, my dear girl. We were pitching much more violently an hour ago. You feel queer because you’re empty. Ah, here we are,” as a steward entered. “Chew away on those gherkins and crackers and don’t take a sip of anything till you feel fine.” He bit on a gherkin himself. “I’ve liked these things ever since I was a kid—used to pinch them from the pantry.”
    She smiled shakily. “You’re most kind.”
    “The Markman girl said that, so I must be slipping. By the way,” without a change of voice, “have you heard from the heart-throb since you came aboard?”
    “You mean...” she broke off, swallowed a scrap of vinegary cucumber. “I’d rather not talk about it, Doctor.”
    “Why not? It’s fairly new, isn’t it? For a healthy young woman you looked terrible yesterday, and you’re still black under the eyes. No man is worth it, Patsy. Take my word for it.”
    Pat did not deny his assumption; it was best that he should think her unhappy about something which had no connection with the ship. In low tones she said, “You don’t think about a man’s worth when you’re fond of him. Alan is going to be a good