"Where?"
"Oh, here, in London."
She lied instinctively, with a laugh.
"It couldn't have been me. I've only just come to London—and I've never met Major Shileto before in my life."
"Of course not," he asserted readily. "But I had no idea two human voices could be so nearly identical."
"Still," she remarked, "you haven't told me of the temperature of a hundred and three."
"Oh, it is no story. Your voice brought it all back. You've heard of a man's own angry pride being cap and bells for a fool? Well"—he laughed apologetically—"it's idiotic. There's no point in it. I just went about for a week in a Canadian winter with that temperature—that's all."
"Because you couldn't bear to lie alone and think?"
"That's about it."
"Sister!" cried the boy, Robin McKay, from the next bed.