“Can’t something be done to hurry things up?” she asked. “I’ve got Daddy on my nerves. I can’t bear to think of him there day after day. I’ve been dreaming of him.”
“Worrying is no good. We—I’ve got some bad news for you. So put all your controls on.”
He paused. Christina Alberta, for all her love of Devizes, had to restrain her violent desire to snap, “Oh! what is it?”
“Visiting day was yesterday. He had one visitor. I suppose that’s the agreeable relation you described—what was his name? Wiggles? Mr. Widgery. But your Daddy can’t be seen again by the outer world for a week. Not until next Tuesday.”
“Oh, damn!” said Christina Alberta.
“Exactly. I’ll do what I can to arrange some sort of special access. I got on to the Medical Superintendent himself. But he’s queer. He’s evidently quite friendly and well disposed, but he fences about. He can’t say either Yes or No. Odd! I’m free to-day in the afternoon, but I’m tied up to-morrow. I was for going down to see him—the superintendent I mean, for a talk after lunch. ‘Better in a day or so,’ he says. Hope there’s nothing wrong that he’s keeping back. Afterwards he promised me to ring me up later, and then abruptly he switched off. So hold yourself ready, there. What’s your telephone number?”
“Haven’t got one. You must telegraph.”
“Or I’ll chase round in a taxi and pick you up. Sorry to hold you up like this, Christina Alberta.”
“I don’t mind anything so long as it’s getting towards Daddy.”
“Right-o,” and the voice was cut off.