Following the glance of the orderly, I saw Doe's wide eyes fixed upon me.
"Hallo, Rupert."
I hurried to his bedside, feeling, even in that moment, a triumphant joy that his affectionate welcome had been for me and not for Monty.
"Hallo, Doe."
He looked very beautiful, lying there. His complexion, always as flawless as a little child's, had assumed a new waxen loveliness, no touch of colour varying its pale and delicate brown. And his eyes were brilliant.
"Well—we did in the old gun, Rupert, that killed—Jimmy Doon—and Major Hardy.... The Rangoon proved too strong for it, after all!"
How characteristic of our dear, dramatic Doe his words were!
"Yes," I said, and could think of nothing more to say.
He moved his body slightly, and I, cudgelling my mind for some remark, asked:
"Were you hurt much?"