“He is better, isn't he?”
“He is rallying. Of course it will be a day or two before we are quite sure.”
She stood looking down at Wilson's quiet figure.
“I guess you know I've been crazy about him,” she said quietly. “Well, that's all over. He never really cared for me. I played his game and I—lost. I've been expelled from the school.”
Quite suddenly she dropped on her knees beside the bed, and put her cheek close to the sleeping man's hand. When after a moment she rose, she was controlled again, calm, very white.
“Will you tell him, Dr. Edwardes, when he is conscious, that I came in and said good-bye?”
“I will, of course. Do you want to leave any other message?”
She hesitated, as if the thought tempted her. Then she shrugged her shoulders.
“What would be the use? He doesn't want any message from me.”
She turned toward the door. But K. could not let her go like that. Her face frightened him. It was too calm, too controlled. He followed her across the room.