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I don't think it could have been long after that before he was in the room. In the meantime I was hating the sight of my own blood and kept begging the nurses or signing to them to remove basins and stained clothes.

Nurse Benham told him very quietly what had happened. He was looking at me and said encouragingly:

"You will soon be all right."

I was still coughing up blood and did not feel reassured. I heard him ask for hot water. Nurse and he were at the chest of drawers, whispering over something that might be cooking operations. Then nurse came back to the bed.

"Dr. Kennedy is going to give you a morphia injection that will stop the hæmorrhage at once."

She rolled up the sleeve of my nightgown, and I saw he was beside her.

"How much?" I got out.

"A quarter of a grain," he answered quietly.

"You'll find it will be quite enough. If not, you can have another."

I resented the prick of the needle, and that having hurt me he should rub the place with his finger, making it worse, I thought. I got reconciled to it however, and his presence there, very soon. He was still in tweeds and they smelt of gorse or peat, of something pleasant.

"Getting better?"