chance she had. To tell him that she had realised that she should have trusted to his judgment as to what was best for Steven; that her feeling about Steven was unchanged and she had had no intention of encouraging him to think otherwise. She meant to keep him at a distance in future ...
Upon that resolve she allowed herself to fall deeply asleep at last. Strangely, there was no que s tion in her mind but that she owed that explanation to Adam Brand.
She knew that she would not bring herself to broach so personal a matter while they were both on duty on the ward. Adam Brand might do it with impunity, but she could not—she must await a more suitable opportunity. What she did not foresee was that, though she was to have the opportunity the next day, the explanation would go unspoken.
She had the morning off duty, and planned to walk down into the town, where, among other errands, she was to take a message for Matron to one of the local supply contractors to the hospital.
The morning was crisp and sunny, and the walk down the long hill would be invigorating. Moreover, she was glad that she was to be out. Steven knew that she was to be off duty; he might telephone, and she wanted time in which to think out what she was to say to him.
On the way down she noticed that the roadway was being hacked up for the second time within a few months. It was strange, she reflected, how the authorities who buried pipes and cables underground rarely seemed to agree on when they should be dug up and looked at. But this time it was the surface itself that was under repair. Already portions of it were far below the kerbs, and here and there men were propping notices on the pavements—“Warning. Deep drop.”
The far side of the road, however, was still open to vehicles.
As no one wished to step down into the road, the pavements were unusually crowded, and at a point where it was impossible for an old lady’s bath-chair to pass unless someone gave away, Kathryn stepped aside unguardedly. Her foot came down upon rough clinkers, and though for a moment she believed she had sprained it, she found to her relief that the heel of her shoe had taken the strain. It had been partly wrenched from the sole, and though she was disconcerted, at least she was not hurt.
She stood for a moment, pressing gingerly downward, wondering if she could get as far as the next shoe-maker’s and, if not, what she was to do. She did not hear the sharp slam of a car door on the far side of the rope-barriers, and she didn’t look up until Adam Brand was at her side and his fingers were pressing deeply into her arm.
“You’re not hurt?” he demanded, his tone crisp with something that she read as reproach for her carelessness. (Once she had heard a similar note in Victor Thorley’s voice when Barbara had stepped backwards from a ladder. But Victor loved Barbara. That was different.)
Her smile was rueful. “No, not at all. Onl y rather disconcerted by—this.” She indicated the partially dislodged heel.
“Well, I can help you with that.” Adam nodded meaningly at his car. “Shall I take you back to hospital, or would you rather go on? I was on my way into the town, but could easily take you back.”
“I’d rather go on,” said Kathryn quickly. “I am doing a message for Matron, and this can be remedied at the first shoe-shop we come to, if you would drop me. ”
“Can you get over to the car?”
“Oh yes — ” But as, aided by his hand beneath her elbow, she hobbled beside him, she felt incredibly foolish. Why had it to be Adam who had come upon her in such a plight? She wished it could have been anyone else—anyone else at all.
They drove in silence until she saw the hanging sign of a shoe-shop ahead.
“You can put me down here if you will.”
She thanked him and alighted, not looking back as she crossed the pavement. But though the repair took several minutes, to her surprise the car was still waiting when she left the shop.
She
Upon that resolve she allowed herself to fall deeply asleep at last. Strangely, there was no que s tion in her mind but that she owed that explanation to Adam Brand.
She knew that she would not bring herself to broach so personal a matter while they were both on duty on the ward. Adam Brand might do it with impunity, but she could not—she must await a more suitable opportunity. What she did not foresee was that, though she was to have the opportunity the next day, the explanation would go unspoken.
She had the morning off duty, and planned to walk down into the town, where, among other errands, she was to take a message for Matron to one of the local supply contractors to the hospital.
The morning was crisp and sunny, and the walk down the long hill would be invigorating. Moreover, she was glad that she was to be out. Steven knew that she was to be off duty; he might telephone, and she wanted time in which to think out what she was to say to him.
On the way down she noticed that the roadway was being hacked up for the second time within a few months. It was strange, she reflected, how the authorities who buried pipes and cables underground rarely seemed to agree on when they should be dug up and looked at. But this time it was the surface itself that was under repair. Already portions of it were far below the kerbs, and here and there men were propping notices on the pavements—“Warning. Deep drop.”
The far side of the road, however, was still open to vehicles.
As no one wished to step down into the road, the pavements were unusually crowded, and at a point where it was impossible for an old lady’s bath-chair to pass unless someone gave away, Kathryn stepped aside unguardedly. Her foot came down upon rough clinkers, and though for a moment she believed she had sprained it, she found to her relief that the heel of her shoe had taken the strain. It had been partly wrenched from the sole, and though she was disconcerted, at least she was not hurt.
She stood for a moment, pressing gingerly downward, wondering if she could get as far as the next shoe-maker’s and, if not, what she was to do. She did not hear the sharp slam of a car door on the far side of the rope-barriers, and she didn’t look up until Adam Brand was at her side and his fingers were pressing deeply into her arm.
“You’re not hurt?” he demanded, his tone crisp with something that she read as reproach for her carelessness. (Once she had heard a similar note in Victor Thorley’s voice when Barbara had stepped backwards from a ladder. But Victor loved Barbara. That was different.)
Her smile was rueful. “No, not at all. Onl y rather disconcerted by—this.” She indicated the partially dislodged heel.
“Well, I can help you with that.” Adam nodded meaningly at his car. “Shall I take you back to hospital, or would you rather go on? I was on my way into the town, but could easily take you back.”
“I’d rather go on,” said Kathryn quickly. “I am doing a message for Matron, and this can be remedied at the first shoe-shop we come to, if you would drop me. ”
“Can you get over to the car?”
“Oh yes — ” But as, aided by his hand beneath her elbow, she hobbled beside him, she felt incredibly foolish. Why had it to be Adam who had come upon her in such a plight? She wished it could have been anyone else—anyone else at all.
They drove in silence until she saw the hanging sign of a shoe-shop ahead.
“You can put me down here if you will.”
She thanked him and alighted, not looking back as she crossed the pavement. But though the repair took several minutes, to her surprise the car was still waiting when she left the shop.
She
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