“Months. Very likely years. No one can tell. You are full of vitality. If you live in the right way....”
“Like this?”
“More or less.”
“And nothing more can be done for me?”
“Rest, open air, occupation for the mind.” I thought over what he had just told me. I had known or guessed it before, but put into words it seemed different, more definite. “Not a dog’s chance.”
“You think Margaret Capel and Gabriel Stanton will do me good? They are part of your treatment?” I asked him.
“They and I,” he said. I was silent after that, silent for quite a long time. He was sitting beside me and put his shapely hand on mine. I did not withdraw it, my thoughts were fully occupied. “You know I shall do everything I can for you; you are a reincarnation.” He spoke with some emotion. “Some day I shall want to ask you something; you will know more about me soon. You are in touch with her.”
“Do you really believe it?” I asked him. We were in the upstairs room. Today I had not adventured the stairs.
“May I play?” he asked. It was not the first time he had played to me. I rather think he played well, but I know nothing of music. If he were talking to me through the keys he was talking to a deaf mute. I lay on the sofa and thought how tired I was, may even have slept. I was taking six grains of codein in the twenty-four hours when the prescription said two, and often fell asleep in the daytime without preparation or expectation.
“I will tell you why I would do anything on earth for you,” he said, turning round abruptly on the piano stool. “If you want to know.” I was wide-awake now and surprised, for I had forgotten of what we had talked before I went off. “It is because you are so brave and uncomplaining.”