“And then—what?”
“He talked to Mr. Gordon for a little while, trying to make him understand. He spoke of being in the West, and mentioned a place he called Maple.”
“Well?”
“Mr. Gordon appeared to recognize that name, for he smiled and said something that sounded like a girl’s name.”
“What name?”
“Bessie or Letty or Nelly. I could not be sure what it was, for he does not talk plainly, you know. He never has had complete control of his tongue since he came here.”
“Was that all you noticed when they were talking? Was there any other word that seemed to penetrate to his brain?”
“Not that I saw. They talked for about fifteen minutes. Then Mr. Gordon, as he said his name was—the visitor—proposed that he should walk his brother about the hospital and out to the garden at the back.”
“And you let him do it?”
“Yes. It seemed reasonable that they should like to be together, after so long a parting. Reasonable for the visitor, that is. The patient did not make any sign one way or the other. Beyond a half smile, as if he were pleased when the name of the girl was on his tongue, he was just as he always is.”