“Is the poor fellow off his head?” he muttered in his wonderment and confusion. “Helpless and weak? Why, it was enough to break a fellow’s back. Has he got a club in the bed?”
Roberts stopped short, as if about, to turn back.
“Ought I to go and warn that woman of his antics? No; she could summon help directly, and—”
“Morning, sir. Find Mr Bracy better, sir?”
Roberts looked up sharply, to find Gedge, with his face looking very thin and more angular than ever, leaning as far as he could out of a narrow window.
“Yes—no—well, getting on, Gedge.”
“Oh yus, sir; he’s getting on. Pecks better now.”
“I’m glad of it. You’re better too, my lad.”
“Me, sir. Oh, I’m getting a reg’lar impostor, sir. Ought to be back in the ranks, only I don’t want to leave Mr Bracy, sir.”
“Certainly not. Keep with him, and do all you can.”