"Yes."
He took something from an envelope and laid it in front of her on the table. It was weatherworn but recognisable. It was a slender black stylograph with a decoration consisting of a thin yellow spiral.
She looked at it a long time without touching it, then looked up at the Rector.
"Then they have found-it?"
"Yes. It was there. Do you want to talk about it here? Wouldn't you prefer to go back to the hospital?"
"What difference does it make? They are both just places where one waits."
"Coffee?" said the slatternly girl, appearing at George's shoulder.
"No; no, thank you."
"Righteeo!"
"What-what is there? I mean, what-what is left? What did they find?"