'In a room just beyond Dora's room. She could make me hear in a moment if you wanted me.'
Then, as he looked closer, he saw that about her head was thrown the broad white lace scarf she had worn round her neck on the journey up. And as he bent to her, she suddenly opened her languid eyes, and gazed at him full. For the moment it was as though she were given back to him.
'I made Dora put it on,' she said feebly, moving her hand towards the lace. 'Does it hide all those nasty bandages?'
'Yes. I can't see them at all.'
'Is it pretty?'
The little gleam of a smile nearly broke down his self-command.
'Very,' he said, with a quivering lip.
She closed her eyes again.
'Oh! I hope Lizzie will look after Sandy,' she said after a while, with a long sigh.
Not a word now of wilfulness, of self-assertion! After the sullenness and revolt of the day before, which had lasted intermittently almost up to the coming of the doctors, nothing could be more speaking, more pathetic, than this helpless acquiescence.