possible. The regimental surgeon has been treating him. Your husband has trained him and he’s done all that your husband could do himself.”
“Is that the surgeon?”
“No, that is Colonel Yü. He’s never left your husband’s side.”
Distracted, Kitty gave him a glance. He was a tallish man, but stockily built, and he seemed ill at ease in his khaki uniform. He was looking at Walter and she saw that his eyes were wet with tears. It gave her a pang. Why should that man with his yellow, flat face have tears in his eyes? It exasperated her.
“It’s awful to be able to do nothing.”
“At least he’s not in pain any more,” said Waddington.
She leaned once more over her husband. Those ghastly eyes of his still stared vacantly in front of him. She could not tell if he saw with them. She did not know whether he had heard what was said. She put her lips close to his ears.
“Walter, isn’t there something we can do?”
She thought that there must be some drug they could give him which would stay the dreadful ebbing of his life. Now that her eyes were more accustomed to the dimness she saw with horror that his face had fallen. She would hardly have recognised him. It was unthinkable that in a few short hours he should look like another man; he hardly looked like a man at all; he looked like death.
She thought that he was making an effort to speak. She put her ear close.
