"My jaws want to close," he muttered. "I can't keep them open."
I jumped and went for Sister, who took the news in a leisurely fashion,
which reproved me for my excitement. Feeling a fool, I went and sat down
again, taking up my splint. But there was no forgetting Gayner.
I tried to keep my eyes on my work, but first his toes and then his
hands filled all my mind, till at last I had to look up and meet the
eyes again.
Still looking as though he had seen a ghost--a beast of a ghost...! In
hospital since Mons.... "I wonder how many men he has seen die of
tetanus?" I thought.
"He's got the jumps," I thought.
So had I. Suppose Sister was wrong! Suppose the precious minutes were
passing! Suppose...! She was only the junior Sister.
"Shall I get you some water?" I said at last. He nodded, and gulped in a
horrible fashion. I got him the mug, and while he drank I longed, but
did not dare, to say, "Are you afraid of ... that?" I thought if one
could say the word it might break down that dumb fright, draw the flesh
up again over those bulging eyes, give him a sort of anchor, a
confessional, even if it was only me. But I didn't dare. Gayner is one
of those men so pent up, so rigid with some inner indignation, one
cannot tamper with the locks.
Again I went and sat down.
When next I looked up he was sweating. He beckoned to me: "Ask Sister to
send for the doctor. I can't stand this."