“Did you ever hear of Edwardes, the surgeon?—the Edwardes operation, you know. Well, he's here. It sounds like a miracle. They found him sitting on a bench in the hall downstairs.”
Sidney raised her head, but she could not see the miraculously found Edwardes. She could see the familiar faces of the staff, and that other face on the pillow, and—she gave a little cry. There was K.! How like him to be there, to be wherever anyone was in trouble! Tears came to her eyes—the first tears she had shed.
As if her eyes had called him, he looked up and saw her. He came toward her at once. The staff stood back to let him pass, and gazed after him. The wonder of what had happened was growing on them.
K. stood beside Sidney, and looked down at her. Just at first it seemed as if he found nothing to say. Then:
“There's just a chance, Sidney dear. Don't count too much on it.”
“I have got to count on it. If I don't, I shall die.”
If a shadow passed over his face, no one saw it.
“I'll not ask you to go back to your room. If you will wait somewhere near, I'll see that you have immediate word.”
“I am going to the operating-room.”
“Not to the operating-room. Somewhere near.”