"Anything more, sir, for the present?" he asked.
"Could I have materials for a whisky and soda to hand?" said Boyce.
"Of course," said I.
Marigold departed. Boyce said:
"If you're too ill to stand me, send me away. But if you can stand me, for God's sake let me talk to you."
"Talk as much as you like," said I. "This is only one of my stupid attacks which a man without legs has to put up with."
"But Marigold—"
"Marigold's an old hen," said I.
"Are you sure you're well enough? That's the curse of not being able to see. Tell me frankly."
"I'm quite sure," said I.