Well, and why not! "Mr. Provost and Mrs. Jannan are away
for a week." Howat hoped that Kingsfrere would not turn up with his
flat face. He was conscious of smiling at a memory the exact shape of
which escaped him--something humorous that had happened to the pasty
youth. A refreshing air came in at the open windows, and he struggled
for a full, satisfying breath. The relief of what he dimly recognized as
oxygen followed. The nurse moved to the door and Mariana entered.
"Howat," she exclaimed, sitting beside him, "how silly of you! A cold
now with winter done. The snow is running away. And these soda-watery
tanks." He felt a warmth communicated by her actual presence. "It's just
my breathing," he told her; "it gets stopped up. A damned nuisance! Did
Honduras meet you?"
She assured him that she had been correctly received, and vanished to
remove her hat. Mariana must not sit in here, with the windows open, he
told the nurse; but then, he added, it was no good giving Mariana
advice. She wouldn't listen to it, except to do the opposite. She came
back, in one of her eternal knitted things, this one like a ripe banana,
and sat in the nurse's place. There was a great deal he wanted to know,
in a few minutes, when he felt less oppressed.
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