"But ... but" interrupted Len, "Nigel hasn't told us ... about the concert ... where's the laurel crown?... left it in the train?"
"Oh, do shut up! I'll tell you anything you like if you'll hold your tongue."
"Tell him while I'm giving him his milk," said Janey; "the doctor ordered him milk every two hours, but he simply won't take it."
"I'll make him," said his brother grimly.
"I'll go and fetch it—you stay with him, Nigel."
She left the room, and Len lay silent a moment, looking out at the stars.
"Old man," he whispered suddenly, "while Janey's away ... I want to tell you something."
"What is it?—can't it wait till you're better?"
"No.... It's this.... She ... she's in ... infernal trouble."