‘Yes, sir.’ With a very anxious face.
The questioner, in the kindness of his heart, appears a little discomposed, and changes the subject.
‘What has become of the old man who used to lie in that bed in the corner?’
The nurse don’t remember what old man is referred to. There has been such a many old men. The well-spoken old man is doubtful. The spectral old man who has come to life in bed, says, ‘Billy Stevens.’ Another old man who has previously had his head in the fireplace, pipes out,
‘Charley Walters.’
Something like a feeble interest is awakened. I suppose Charley Walters had conversation in him.
‘He’s dead,’ says the piping old man.
Another old man, with one eye screwed up, hastily displaces the piping old man, and says.
‘Yes! Charley Walters died in that bed, and—and—’
‘Billy Stevens,’ persists the spectral old man.