The next moment he opened them wider. His mouth gaped slowly like a hole in a sliding cliff. Mrs. Horace Hignett was standing at his bedside.
§ 3
In the moment which elapsed before either of the two could calm their agitated brains to speech, Eustace became aware, as never before, of the truth of that well-known line—“Peace, perfect peace, with loved ones far away.” There was certainly little hope of peace with loved ones in his bedroom. Dully, he realised that in a few minutes Jane Hubbard would be returning with her book, but his imagination refused to envisage the scene which would then occur.
“Eustace!”
Mrs. Hignett gasped, hand on heart.
“Eustace!” For the first time Mrs. Hignett seemed to become aware that it was a changed face that confronted hers. “Good gracious! How stout you’ve grown!”
“It’s mumps.”
“Mumps!”
“Yes, I’ve got mumps.”
Mrs. Hignett’s mind was too fully occupied with other matters to allow her to dwell on this subject.