“She is resting,” said Adrien. “The bullet is extracted. It had gone quite through to the outer skin—a clean wound.”
“How long,” said McNish, passing his tongue over his dry lips, “how long does the doctor say—”
“The doctor says nothing. She asked for you.”
McNish started up and went toward the door.
“But you cannot go to her now.”
“She asked for me?” said McNish.
“Yes. But she must be kept quite quiet. The very least excitement might hurt her.”
“Hurt her?” said McNish, and sat down quietly.
After a moment's silence, he said:
“You will let me see her—once more—before she—she—” He paused, his lips quivering, his great blue eyes pitifully beseeching her.