Brother Bonaday gazed up as if appealing for mercy, but shook his head.
"I cannot, sir."
"Come, come—as to a friend, if you won't as to a priest?… Hang it all, my good man, you might give me credit for that, considering the chance I'm holding out! You don't surely suppose that St. Hospital will continue to suffer this scandal in its midst?" Still as Brother Bonaday shook his head, the Chaplain with a sign of impatience enlarged his hint. "Copas knows: I have it on the best authority. Was it he that dropped the hint to Nurse Branscome? or did she herself scent the discovery and give over attending on you?"
"You won't—send her—away!" pleaded Brother Bonaday, thinking only of Corona.
His voice came in a whisper, between gasps for breath.
Mr. Colt stared.
"Well, of all the calm requests—!" he began.
But here the sound of a light running footstep cut him short. The door was pushed open, and on the threshold stood Corona, flushed, excited.
"Daddy, guess! Oh, but you'll never! I'm a real live Greycoat, and if I don't tell Timmy before you ask a single question I shall burst!"
She came to a halt, her eyes on Mr. Colt.