"Where are my clothes, Nurse?"
"You'll not be wanting clothes yet awhile," she answered with a smile. "I'm coming back shortly to tidy you up," and Vane cursed under his breath as she left the room.
Then he picked up the second letter and opened it. At first he thought it was a blank sheet of paper, and then he saw that there were a few words in the centre of the page. For a moment they danced before his eyes; then he pulled himself together and read them.
"''Tis well for those who have the gift
To seize him even as he flies. . . .'
"Oh! you fool—you fool! Why didn't you?"
That was all, and for a long while he lay and stared at the bare wall opposite.
"Why didn't you?" The words mocked him, dancing in great red letters on the pale green distemper, and he shook his feet at them childishly.
"It's not fair," he raved. "It's simply not fair."
And the god in charge took a glance into the room, though to the man in bed it was merely a ray from a watery sun with the little specks of dust dancing and floating in it.
"Of no more account than a bit of dirt," he muttered cynically. "It wasn't my fault. . . . I never asked to be torpedoed. I only did what I thought was right." He buried his head in his hands with a groan.