She waited only long enough to see the frightened look in Aunt Amy's eyes replaced by one of timid confidence and then, murmuring an excuse, slipped away, leaving them together.
Callandar also waited while the startled eyes grew quiet and then lifted the fluttering hand into his own firm one.
"Creatures of habit, we doctors, aren't we ?" he said, smiling.

"Always taking people's temperatures." Aunt Amy ventured upon a vague answering smile.
"I understand," continued the doctor, "that you have reason to fear that you have been poisoned ?" The hand began to flutter again, but quieted as the pleasant, confident voice went on: "Your niece has told me something of the case but no details.

Perhaps you can supply them for me.

When exactly did it happen and what kind of poison was it ?" The fluttering hand became quite still and the eyes of Aunt Amy slowly filled with a great amazement.

Here was an unbelievable thing--a doctor who did not argue or deny or playfully scold her for "fancies." A doctor who took her seriously and showed every intention of believing what she said.