Andrew could not sleep that night. Next morning he felt half dead. He ate no breakfast, but-just drank one cup of coffee. His first thought now was for Mary Boland. He got out his car, and drove straight to the Victoria Hospital to see how she was.

'Good morning,' she said, when he entered her room. 'Aren't my flowers beautiful? Christine brought them yesterday.'

He sat on her bed and looked at her. She seemed to be thinner! 'Yes, they are nice flowers. How do you feel, Mary?'

'Oh - all right.' Her eyes avoided his. 'Anyway, you'll soon make me better!'

Her confidence in him added to his misery. He thought: 'If any harm comes to Ìàry, I will never forgive myself.'

At that moment, Dr Thoroughgood entered. 'Good morning, Manson,' he said pleasantly. 'Why, what's the matter with you? Are you ill?'

Andrew stood up. 'I'm quite well, thank you.'

Dr Thoroughgood gave him a strange look, and then turned to Mary. They examined Mary together, and then walked over to a corner of the room, where they could not be heard, and discussed her case.

'It seems to me,' said Andrew, 'that her progress is not at all satisfactory.'

Dr Thoroughgood rubbed his hands. 'Oh, I don't know, Manson.'

'Her temperature is higher.'

'Yes. But-'

'This case is very important to me. I don't want to tell you your business but I think that you should do an operation on her lung. I suggested this when Mary first came into hospital.'

Thoroughgood was annoyed. 'I don't agree with you,' he said. 'I'm sorry, Manson, but you must allow me to treat this case in the way that I consider best.'

Andrew felt too weak to argue. He went back to Mary, told her that he would call to see her again on the following day, and left the hospital.

It was now nearly one o'clock. He went to a cheap restaurant, where he drank another cup of coffee but ate no food, and then drove to his office in Welbeck Street, where Nurse Sharp, who was in a bad temper, also inquired if he felt ill.

His first patient was a young man with a weak heart. Andrew gave him a thorough examination, and then asked him many questions before deciding on the treatment to give him. When, at the end of the examination, the young man tried to pay him for his services, Andrew said quickly: 'Please don't pay me now. Wait till I send you a bill.' The thought that he would never send a bill, that he had lost his desire for money and now hated it, comforted him strangely.