Gerrit made progress every day. He was now so much better that he sat in a big chair, sat dozing until he sank away in the downy abyss and fell asleep in his chair. He was now so much better that he was able to speak a few words to the two women and the doctor and the nurse; and his first question was:
"The children . . . ?"
He had understood that they were not there and that he would not see them just yet.
He was now so much better that he remembered his recent life and asked:
"Pauline . . . ?"
And he saw that they did not understand. Why they did not understand he failed to see, for, when he asked after the children or Mamma, they always understood and answered kindly, telling him that Mamma and the children were well.
Then he asked:
"Your husband, Constance . . . ? Your boy . . . ?"
And Constance answered that they were well.
Then he asked:
"Pauline . . . ?"
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