`Because Dr Ansell said you didn't know anybody here. Do you?'

`I know nobody nowhere,' said Dawes.

`Well,' said Paul, `it's because you don't choose to, then.'

There was another silence.

`We s'll be taking my mother home as soon as we can,' said Paul.

`What's a-matter with her?' asked Dawes, with a sick man's interest in illness.

`She's got a cancer.'

There was another silence.

`But we want to get her home,' said Paul. `We s'll have to get a motor-car.'

Dawes lay thinking.

`Why don't you ask Thomas Jordan to lend you his?' said Dawes.

`It's not big enough,' Morel answered.

Dawes blinked his dark eyes as he lay thinking.

`Then ask Jack Pilkington; he'd lend it you. You know him.'

`I think I s'll hire one,' said Paul.

`You're a fool if you do,' said Dawes.

The sick man was gaunt and handsome again. Paul was sorry for him because his eyes looked so tired.

`Did you get a job here?' he asked.

`I was only here a day or two before I was taken bad,' Dawes replied.

`You want to get in a convalescent home,' said Paul.

The other's face clouded again.

`I'm goin' in no convalescent home,' he said.

`My father's been in the one at Seathorpe, an' he liked it. Dr Ansell would get you a recommend.'

Dawes lay thinking. It was evident he dared not face the world again.

`The seaside would be all right just now,' Morel said. `Sun on those sandhills, and the waves not far out.'

The other did not answer.

`By Gad!' Paul concluded, too miserable to bother much; `it's all right when you know you're going to walk again, and swim!'

Dawes glanced at him quickly. The man's dark eyes were afraid to meet any other eyes in the world. But the real misery and helplessness in Paul's tone gave him a feeling of relief.