"What are you implying?" He spoke a little more clearly now, "I ... I believe after all I'm ill--but----"
At that moment Bruce's eyes, roving here and there, caught sight of a small decanter of brandy which stood on the table at his elbow. As a matter of fact it had been brought there for a patient whose nerves had failed him, earlier in the day, on hearing what practically amounted to a sentence of death; but to Cheniston the innocent object appeared as the confirmation of his suspicions, and his lip curled.
"Come along, Iris." His disdain was cruel. "We must go and find some one else--some one who hasn't fuddled his wits like our friend here."
Iris' eyes, following his, had seen the brandy; and in a flash of insight she knew what he meant. But before she could speak, could utter the denial which trembled on her lips, Anstice himself interposed.
"You are mistaken, Cheniston." He still spoke haltingly, but his eyes looked less dim than they had done a moment ago. "That"--he pointed to the decanter--"is not my particular vice. I confess I am not myself to-night; and I fear I'm not capable of attending any one for the present; but it is not brandy which is responsible, I assure you of that."
He stopped, feeling suddenly that the effort of speech was too much for him. A terrible dizziness was overwhelming him ... he had only one desire on earth, that Iris Wayne would leave him, that he might sink down on to the couch again, and let the fathomless sea which was surging round him drown his soul and senses in its rolling flood....
Yet by a great effort he stood upright, steadying himself by the edge of the table; and through all his mental and physical misery he saw Iris' grey eyes fixed upon his face with a great pity in their depths.
"Dr. Anstice"--regardless of Bruce's presence she took up the hypodermic syringe which lay on the table, gleaming in a strong beam of light which streamed through the open door--"you have been trying this way out--again?"
Her voice, which held no condemnation, only an overwhelming compassion, drove back for a moment those cruel waves which surged around him; and when he answered her his voice was almost steady.
"Yes, Miss Wayne. I ... I could find no other way, and so--I took this one."
Iris placed the syringe down gently on the table, and her eyes were full of tears.