“No; I’ve stayed too long already,” was the surly answer, and Nairn turned his face further towards the wall.
“To-morrow we shall be able to move you out on to the stoep, and perhaps you will let me read to you there? It won’t seem so lonely and dismal then,” said Miss Kate, gently ignoring Nairn’s tone.
“Thank you!” he answered tartly; “I don’t mind being alone. I like it!”
She had got to know his humours, and so, standing back a little where he could not watch her face, and keeping the laughter out of her voice, she said: “Oh!”
“Perhaps the others are ready,” he remarked after a pause. “I am keeping you from your ride.”
“I don’t think so. They promised to call for me here.”
“Don’t wait on my account, please. I don’t mind being alone.”
“So you said before. If you object to my sitting here, of course I can wait on the stoep. I thought perhaps you liked me to be here.”
Miss Kate switched gently at her foot, but did not move from her seat, and Nairn played a tattoo upon the woodwork of the lounge. He broke the silence with an impatient sigh and, after another pause, his companion remarked airily to the opposite wall:
“I wonder why sick people are called patients?”