"He says it's so dull with just him and me. The poor old gentleman should have had a family. It's dreadful for him being alone. It just takes all the heart out of him."
"Well, I've come to be the family," said Judy. "Oh, what wonderful palms!"
They turned into a driveway lined with them, and up to the hotel. It was an imposing building, dazzling in fresh white paint; and glossy orange trees, heavy with ripe fruit, stood on either side of the entrance.
"Mr. de Lisle's still in bed, of course," Miss McPherson told her, "but you may see him after lunch. And I've promised him he may go out with you in a day or two. In a bath-chair, at first."
She left Judy to unpack, and have her lunch, and hurried back to her patient.
"I shall get on with her," Judy said to herself, "she's human."
At about half-past two she knocked at Stephen's door.
Miss McPherson had told her that he still complained of numbness in his legs, so she was prepared for the sight of the long, gaunt figure stretched out so inertly on a bed near the window. His head was turned her way, and as he held out
