Читать книгу On the Brink of a Chasm: A record of plot and passion онлайн

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“I am glad I have found you,” repeated Tarbot. He spoke in a hurry, and as though he were slightly out of breath. “I rushed off here in great haste. I must see a patient again before midnight. The man will probably die when the new day dawns, and he has a longing to have me with him when he breathes his last.”

Barbara was silent, but her eyes, as if mesmerized, fixed themselves on Tarbot.

“It is a relief to see you, Miss Evershed: you look so bright—as if you had never known sorrow or illness. The contrast between that dying man’s agony and your grace and beauty is enough to stagger one. Yes, I can stay but for a quarter of an hour. I promised Mr. Harlington to be with him when he died.”

“Why did you leave him?” said Barbara in her slow voice. She always spoke in a slow, reflective sort of way.

“Does not the contrast make you ill?” she continued. “The frivolity of life one moment, a death-bed the next. I do not know how you doctors can live; you must get terribly hard as the years go on. Well, I must go back to our guests; mother will want me to help her. There are a great many people here to-night.”