Presently Pollock returned alone. He sat down.
"It's It," he said despondently. "My picture's not done. I shan't have a penny till July. We were counting on its not happening till July. I've not got ten pounds."
"You mustn't worry about that," said Roger. "You must borrow from me. Take this cheque. I'll endorse it. Give me yours for half of it. Don't say you won't. Look here. You must. Now about a nurse. Look here. Listen to me, Charles. You can't leave here. I'll see about a nurse. I know the sort of woman Kitty would like. I'll settle all that with the doctor. I'll send the best I can. You can't leave Kitty, that's certain."
Pollock pulled himself together. The doctor returned. Roger took the addresses of several women, and hurried off to interview them. No cab was in sight. He wasted ten good minutes of nervous tension in trying to find one. He found one at last. As he drove, the desire to be at Ottalie's flat made him forget his friend. He thought only of the chance of seeing Ottalie. He must waste no time. He wondered if he would be too late, as in his dream. He would have to get there early, very early. He prayed that the first nurse on his list might be a suitable woman. The image of the suitable nurse, a big, calm, placid, ox-eyed woman, formed in his mind. If he could find her at once he would be in time. He was longing to be pounding past Whitehall, on the way to Shaftesbury Avenue. A clock above a hosier's told him that it was nine. No. That clock had stopped. Another clock, further on, over a general store, said eight-fifteen. Yet another, eight-thirty. His watch said eight-thirty-five; but his watch was fast.
Mrs. Perks, of 7 Denning Street, was out. Would he leave a message? No, he would not leave a message. Was it Mrs. Ford? No, not Mrs. Ford, another lady. Perhaps he would come back. He bade the cabman to hurry. Mrs. Stanton, the next on the list, could not come. She was expecting a call from another lady. Mrs. Sanders was out, and "wouldn't be back all day, she said." The fourth, a brisk, level-headed woman, busy at a sewing-machine in a neat room, would come; but was he the husband, and could she be certain of her fees, and what servants were kept?
He said that the fees were safe. He gave her two sovereigns on account. Then she boggled at the single servant. She was not very strong. She had never before been with any lady with only one servant. She wasn't sure how she would get on. She had herself to consider.
"I'm sorry," said Roger. "You would have been the very woman. I'll go on to the hospital."
"Perhaps I could manage," she said.
"Will you come?" he asked.
"Is it in a house or a flat?"