Four
I
It was not really cold in the hospital but it felt cold. There was a smell ofantiseptics in the air. Occasionally in the corridor outside could be heardthe rattle¹ of glasses and instruments as a trolley² was pushed by. HilaryCraven sat in a hard iron chair by a bedside.
In the bed, lying flat under a shaded light with her head bandaged, OliveBetterton lay unconscious. There was a nurse standing³ on one side of thebed and the doctor on the other. Jessop sat in a chair in the far corner ofthe room. The doctor turned to him and spoke⁴ in French.
“It will not be very long now,” he said. “The pulse is very much weaker.”
“And she will not recover consciousness?”
The Frenchman shrugged⁵ his shoulders.
“That I cannot say. It may be, yes, at the very end.”
“There is nothing you can do—no stimulant⁷?”
The doctor shook his head. He went out. The nurse followed him. Shewas replaced by a nun⁸ who moved to the head of the bed, and stood there,her fingers fingering her rosary. Hilary looked at Jessop and in obedienceto a glance from him came to join him.
“You heard what the doctor said?” he asked in a low voice.
“Yes. What is it you want to say to her?”
“If she regains¹⁰ consciousness I want any information you can possiblyget, any password, any sign, any message, anything. Do you understand?
She is more likely to speak to you than to me.”
Hilary said with sudden emotion:
“You want me to betray someone who is dying?”
Jessop put his head on one side in the bird-like manner which he some-times adopted.
“So it seems like that to you, does it?” he said, considering.
“Yes, it does.”
He looked at her thoughtfully.

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