Aunt Jane rang the bell.
"Won't you sit down," she indicated a chair.
"Thank you. I prefer to keep standing—while I can." He said it smilingly.
If there was an undertone of appeal for sympathy in the words, Aunt Jane's face ignored it. She turned to the nurse who entered.
"Show Mr.—?" She consulted the card in her hand with elaborate care. "Mr.—? Medfield, yes, that's it—show Mr. Medfield to Suite A."
The man bowed and took his coat on his arm. The nurse led the way. And Aunt Jane watched them from the room, holding the little card in her hand.
A little later when she entered the name on the card in the hospital register, she added something after it in tiny hieroglyphics that made her smile as she closed the book and put it away on its shelf.