"Don't go."
"But I must," she answered, her hands busy with her cap.
Her tone showed that, like himself, she too had learned the meaning of an order. He yielded to its quiet firmness.
"If you must. But, before you go, tell me this: have I been off my head?"
She nodded in assent.
He frowned.
"Sorry," he said briefly. "Please answer me honestly. Have I mumbled things and made a blasted fool of myself?"
It was still two days before he was allowed to talk to his own satisfaction. Then, one afternoon in her rest hour, Alice Mellen let him have his way and, seated by his cot, she answered tersely to a raking fire of terse questions.
"How long have I been here?"
"Just a week."