When the shaking subsided, he explained through chattering teeth about the oxygen register across the room, and she went away.
The fever vanished completely, leaving him listless. His hand, lying on the rough blanket, was abnormally white. He wiggled the fingers, but he could not feel the wool.
His mouth was dry and he wanted a drink of water.
Hertha moved out of his range of vision. He shifted his head on the damp pillow and watched her out of the corner of his eye.
He had never heard her real name, but she did not seem to object to his name for her.
I am that which began;
Out of me the years roll;
Out of me God and man;
I am equal and whole;