“This is Mr. Pillivant’s house.”
“Pillivant—Pillivant? Oh yes. I’ve got it. It seems as if I had been off my head for a bit.” The nurse nodded. “I’m all right now. Let me put things together.” Suddenly he sat up. “My God! How is Quong Ho?”
“He is getting on as well as can be expected,” replied the nurse.
“He’s alive? Quite sure?”
“Quite sure.”
Baltazar fell back on the pillow. “The last thing I remember clearly was their taking him into the Cottage Hospital, after that infernal jolting across the moor. What happened then?”
“You collapsed, and they brought you here.”
“What day is it?”
“Friday.”
“Good Lord,” said Baltazar, “I’ve been here since midday Wednesday.”