nearby. She found that the blood had apparently come from
somewhere else, since the child was not hurt at all, only
shocked into a state of complete dull disbelief. Kate stripped
off the blood-soaked dress, washed the child gently and
wrapped her up warmly in a blanket before giving her a
small glass of pure glucose and water. The little girl
coughed, made a disgusted face, but seemed less stupefied
as the glucose took effect. Kate patted her cheek, smiled and
went on to an old man who needed help.
She worked for what seemed like hours until she found
that Marc was at her side, taking her arm.
“The doctor is here, with the Sisters from the convent at
Epilison. They will cope from now on—come home, Kate.
You look worn out.”
She straightened wearily, pushing back a damp lank of
hair from her perspiring forehead. Her back ached, her
head was throbbing. Without a word she let him guide her
out of the crowded house.
The doctor turned and smiled at her, shaking his head,
and speaking severely, but with a great warmth and
kindness in his black eyes. The two nuns with him nodded,
like smiling children, their pale smooth faces approving.
Marc slid his arm around Kate, as she swayed a little.
“The doctor says you are a silly girl, but very brave and
very kind. You have done sterling work tonight, but now
you must rest.”
She managed to return the doctor’s smile, then Marc had
lead her out of the house, and the cool freshness of the night
hit her like wine, making her head swim.
“Hey,” Marc caught her, as she stumbled drunkenly, “you