"Darling," she whispered. "Orv ... darling ... I'm here ... darling ... it's me..."
"Jean," he responded. "Sister Blanche said that you had come ... I was waiting..." His voice trailed off.
She kissed his cheek, stroked his forehead, puzzled by the head bandages; she hoped she was going to react sanely.
"I'm going to be sick," he said, in a faint voice.
"I'll help you," she said, and picked up his kidney-shaped pan. "Now," she exclaimed professionally. "See, I'm here to take care of you. See!"
"It was nothing," he said, breathing jerkily. "Nothing ... if nothing came up, I guess I've cleaned house."
"Of course you have," she said.
"Ah!"
"Is your pain severe?"
"Not now ... not bad."