Feathers ran a distracted hand across his hair.
45 "More heroics!" he said savagely. "Well, I refuse! I absolutely refuse! I hate this tommyrot, I tell you!"
Chris looked offended. "I think she'll be hurt if you don't go." he said diffidently.
There was a little silence.
"Oh, all right!" Feathers turned resignedly to the door. "Do I go now, and do you come with me?"
"Yes."
They went out of the room together and along the corridor.
Marie was lying on a sofa by the window, wrapped in a blue woolly gown. Her dark hair was spread over the pillow behind her, and she looked very frail and wan.
She held out her hand to Feathers, smiling faintly.
"I know you'll hate it," she said weakly, "but—I want to thank you. They tell me "—her brown eyes went past him to where her husband stood—"Chris tells me that you saved my life."