“It must have been a mistake,” the latter muttered.
Peter was thinking fast. The fact remained that their meeting the night before had been noted. He was leaving for the field shortly; the harm of suspicion would fall upon her.
“I promised to call a moment this morning at the amputation house—but no one was to come for me,” he added.
“I have made a mistake,” the orderly repeated.
“...I wonder if I have?” Peter thought.
Samarc's hand came up to him, and the pull that meant he wanted to speak. Peter invariably paled before this ordeal. Not through words but sounds were the meanings tortured out.... Samarc meant to take the field. In the usual course there would be no coming back for him at nightfall, because he had “ceased to kill—”
“But must your officers know?” Peter whispered.
...The officers would know if it were the same old crew, because they knew Samarc's work. This was the substance of the answer.
“But why go?”
...They would take off the bandages to be sure that he required further hospital care. He could not endure that. The bandages must never come off.... He would rather be afield.