“Ten minutes, no more,” she insisted good-humoredly.
The Inspector nodded.
“One question, if you please, nurse,” he asked. “Is the man going to live?”
“Not a doubt about it,” she declared. “Why?”
“A matter of depositions,” the Inspector exclaimed. “I’d rather let it go, though, if he’s sure to recover.”
“It’s a simple case,” she answered, “and his constitution is excellent. There isn’t the least need for your to think about depositions. Here he is. Don’t talk too long.”
The Inspector sat down by the bedside. The patient, a young man, welcomed him a little shyly.
“You have come to ask me about what I saw in Pall Mall and opposite the Hyde Park Hotel?” he said, speaking slowly and in a voice scarcely raised above a whisper. “I told them all before the operation, but they couldn’t send for you then. There wasn’t time.”
The Inspector nodded.
“Tell me your own way,” he said. “Don’t hurry. We can get the particulars later on. Glad you’re going to be mended.”