'Perfectly,' said Anna. 'In fact, in the very centre of the radiator.' Anna measured the equal margins with her knuckle, as she had been told to do when she first took service.
'And my tortoise-shell hair brushes?' Frau Ebermann could not command her dressing-table from where she lay.
'Perfectly straight, side by side in the big tray, and the comb laid across them. Your watch also in the coralline watch-holder. Everything'—she moved round the room to make sure—'everything is as you have it when you are well.' Frau Ebermann sighed with relief. It seemed to her that the room and her head had suddenly grown cooler.
'Good!' said she. 'Now warm my nightgown in the kitchen, so it will be ready when I have perspired. And the towels also. Make the inhaler steam, and put in the eucalyptus; that is good for the larynx. Then sit you in the kitchen, and come when I ring. But, first, my hot-water bottle.'
It was brought and scientifically tucked in.
'What news?' said Frau Ebermann drowsily. She had not been out that day.
'Another victory,' said Anna. 'Many more prisoners and guns.'
Frau Ebermann purred, one might almost say grunted, contentedly.
'That is good too,' she said; and Anna, after lighting the inhaler-lamp, went out.
Frau Ebermann reflected that in an hour or so the aspirin would begin to work, and all would be well. To-morrow—no, the day after—she would
