It was not difficult to fill in the blanks in her halting explanation. Matheson lay back on the pillow and was silent for a time, while Mrs Krige, believing that his curiosity was satisfied, resumed her seat and her occupation. Matheson watched her from the bed, rolling and stitching the strips of linen and placing the finished bandages in orderly rows on the table. There was something significant and disturbing in the calm methodical process; it worried him unaccountably. Actuated by a sudden resolve, he moved his shoulder to test how far it incommoded him. It felt stiff and painful, but he had an idea that if he could get to the station he would be able to manage the journey to Cape Town. It was become a matter of urgent importance to him to get away back to the coast. There was nothing he could accomplish by remaining; and to remain in Honor's vicinity was intolerable. He put up a hand and felt his shoulder. It had been bandaged with a skill that suggested hospital training. He wondered who had done him this service. Curiosity prompted him to inquire. "Some one has dressed my wound," he said. "Was that you?" "No." Mrs Krige looked up quickly. "Hadn't you better lie quiet?" she said. He picked at the coverlet with impatient fingers. "I can't," he answered. "I can't rest. I want to be up and out of this. If I had a conveyance I could get to the station, and the rest would be easy. There's nothing much the matter with me. This wound-- it's trifling. Besides, I must get back." "In a day or so," she answered soothingly. "Is it so irksome to have me waiting on you for so brief a time?" He smiled faintly. "You are making me out ungrateful. It isn't that, believe me... You are so kind; I know you will forgive my seeming ungraciousness. It is really important that I should return to the coast. There is some one in Cape Town who expects me. I am going to be married shortly." He was conscious as he said this of the sudden brightening of Mrs Krige's face. She glanced towards him with eyes that expressed interest and an immense relief. "I'm so glad," she said. She got up and moved away to the window, and remained with her back towards the bed, so that Matheson was no longer able to watch her face. She was, as he was perfectly aware, thinking of the confidence he had once reposed in her, when he had talked to her of his hopeless attachment for Honor, and had seemed to reproach her for the misdirection of Honor's views. Those days appeared far away now; so much had happened in the interval; and yet the distress of them was painfully alive.