Read Online Kind Are Her Answers by Mary Renault - Free Book Online Page B

“it was lucky I came along when I did.”
    In a lull of the baby’s wail a faint voice called, “Nurse—please—”
    “Don’t bother with me,” Kit said. “I’ve got everything. I’ll let myself out. Good night, and thank you.”
    It was nearly six when he got in. He woke in sunlight, to find himself being shaken by the shoulder. He blinked, dazed and scarcely knowing where he was: he had thrown himself on the bed meaning only to rest, but had fallen into a sleep so deep that waking left him dazed, like coming round from an anaesthetic or a blow. The curtains had just been opened, and a patch of sun fell on his face. It hurt his eyes, and he threw his arm across them, longing for sleep again. Then, under it, he saw that it was Janet who was standing there, dressed for the morning, looking down at him.
    He moved his arm, narrowing his eyes in the light. She did not speak for a moment; she had taken her hand away quickly when he woke, but was still standing beside him. To his indistinct vision there seemed a kind of softness and shadow in her face, and a little droop at the corners of her mouth that he had not seen lately. He rubbed his eyes, gathering his mind together, dimly remembering that something had happened, that it was somehow wrong she should be there; that it made him unhappy to see her.
    “I’ve brought you some breakfast,” she said. “You won’t get anything to eat before surgery begins unless you have it now.”
    He realized that there was a smell of coffee in the room. “What?” he murmured, his voice furred with sleep. “What time is it?”
    “Half-past eight. I left you as long as I could.”
    Struggling with a weariness that seemed ten times what it had been when he fell asleep, Kit began to come to himself. He felt stiff and cramped, and remembered that half-way through undressing it had not seemed worth while, and he had lain down as he was in his trousers and loosened shirt. He pushed back his hair, which was falling over his forehead. Janet turned away, and pulled up the bedside table with the tray on it.
    “I told Elsie to bring you up some fresh shaving-water. The first jug will be cold by now.”
    “Thank you.” Kit sat up. Her voice had a gentleness that moved and confusedly hurt him. “You shouldn’t have bothered,” he said. “I could have come down.”
    “You looked absolutely dead. You never sleep on like that. What happened? What time did you come in?”
    “I don’t remember, about six I think. I had two night-calls straight on, a heart case first and then a midder.”
    “You mean you’d been out ever since that first bell went before twelve? No wonder you’re tired.”
    “It’s all right. I’ll wake up if I have a cold bath.”
    “Have this first while it’s hot.” She poured out a cup of coffee, moved to go, and sat down instead on the foot of the bed; a thing she had not done for more than a year. Kit picked up the coffee cup; he was too tired to feel hungry yet, and hoped she would not stop to see if he ate.
    She said, looking out of the window at the sun glittering on wet roofs and trees, “It must have been a terrible night to be out in. I lay awake for hours listening to the rain.”
    “I wasn’t out in it very much. I’m sorry it kept you awake.”
    “Look! The ends of your trousers are soaking wet even now. You’ll make yourself ill, sleeping in damp clothes. Kit, what a stupid thing to do. Whatever made you? Were you too tired to take them off?”
    “I didn’t notice them. It won’t hurt me for once.”
    “You will change them?”
    “My dear, of course I shall—the crease is out for one thing. Don’t you worry about me.”
    “Oh, I don’t do that. I know you’re independent.” She smiled, a tight little smile more like her ordinary one. “But you looked so … Well, I mustn’t sit here making you talk, or you won’t get anything to eat.” She got up, smoothed the pleats of her neat skirt, and walked away. At the door she