"What day?"
"Saturday."
"When--" I hesitated. I was afraid.
"Well?" he asked, quietly.
"When was I hurt? Many days ago--many weeks?"
"You were hurt at half-past three this afternoon."
I tried to comprehend; I could not, and after a while I gave up my
feeble grasp on time.
"What is that roaring sound?" I asked. "Not drums? Not my lions?"
"It is the sea."
"So near?"
"Very near."
I turned my head on the white pillow. "Where is this bed? Where is
this room?"
"Shall I tell you?"