“You’ve heard from her?”
“From Mindle who looks after my shack there. He says she’s very ill. I’ve got to go out there at once.”
“Oh, Ban!”
“I know, dearest, and after all these endless weeks of separation. But you wouldn’t have me do otherwise. Would you?”
“Of course not,” she said indignantly. “When do you start?”
“At midnight.”
“And your work?”
“I’ll send my stuff in by wire.”
“How long?”
“I can’t tell until I get there.”