"I see how little I know, Dr. Sandford," I remarked.
"Ay?" said he. "I had been thinking rather the other way."
"You surprised me very much - with the one touch of your
hair."
The doctor was silent.
"I should have thought - in my ignorance - several others more
likely to have called for it."
"Thorold is the only one," said the doctor.
"How is it?"
"The injuries are internal and complicated; and beyond reach."
The doctor had been washing his hands, and I was now washing
mine; and with my face so turned away from him, I went on.
"He does not seem to suffer much."
"Doesn't he?" said the doctor.
"Should he?"
"He should, if he has not good power of self-control. No man
in the ward suffers as he does. I have noticed, he hides it
well."
I was washing my hands. I remember my wringing the water from
them; then I remember no more. When I knew anything again, I
was lying on an old sofa that stood in the doctor's room, and
he was putting water or brandy - I hardly know what - on my
face. With a face of his own that was pale, I saw even then,
without seeing it, as it bent over me. He was speaking my
name. I struggled for breath and tried to raise myself. He
gently put me back.
"Lie still," he said. "Are you better?"
"I am quite well," I answered.
He gave me a few drops of something to swallow. It revived me.
I sat up presently on the sofa, pushed back the hair from my
face, and thought I would get up and be as though nothing had
been. Dr. Sandford's hand followed my hasty fingers and put
gently away from my brow the hair I had failed to stroke into
order. It was an unlucky touch, for it reached more than my
hair and my brow. I turned deadly sick again, and fell back
into unconsciousness.
When a second time I recovered sense, I kept still and waited
and let Dr. Sandford minister to me as he thought best, with
strong waters and sweet waters and ice water; until he saw
that I was really restored, and I saw that great concern was
sitting upon his features.
"You have overtasked yourself at last," he said.
"Not at all," I answered, quietly.
"You must do no more, Daisy."
"I must do all my work," I said. And I sat up now and put my
feet to the floor, and put up my fallen-down hair, taking out
my comb and twisting up the hair in some semblance of its
wont.
"Your work here is done," said the doctor.
I finished doing up my hair and took a towel and wiped the
drops of water and brandy from my face.