Yet in spite of the lateness of the hour Anstice did not drive home at a particularly rapid pace. Something in the episode just closed had intrigued him, piqued his curiosity as well as stimulated his interest; and he was wondering, as he drove, what there was about his patient which suggested a mystery--something, at least, unusual unexpected, in her character or surroundings.
"She's uncommonly handsome--but so are heaps of women. Nice house, plenty of money, I should say, and of course she herself is well bred. Yet there is something odd about her--about her manner, rather. Looks at one queerly--almost quizzically--and yet when she smiled she looked extraordinarily sad." He turned a corner rather carelessly and a surprised motor-cyclist sounded his horn reproachfully. "I wonder--is she a widow? There was no sign of a husband, though I believe the servant said something about a child. Anyhow"--he had reached his own house now and slowed down before the gate--"I will see her to-morrow and perhaps learn a little more about her--if there is anything to learn. If not--well, women love to appear mysterious. There never was a woman yet who didn't long to rival the Sphinx and appear an enigma in the eyes of wondering men!"
And he went in to his belated dinner with a rather cynical smile on his lips.