as it were, by a miracle, at any rate for the while.
He was still very weak, with great pain in his head, and could not read
at all, which grieved him.

So the time went by, till at last he was told that he was to be sent to
England, as his bed was wanted and he could recover there as well as in
France. Two days later he started in a hospital train and suffered much
upon the journey, although it was broken for a night at Boulogne. Still
he came safely to London, and was taken to a central hospital where
next day several doctors held a consultation over him. When it was over
they asked him if he had friends in London and wished to stay there. He
replied that he had no friends except an old nurse at Hampstead, if she
were still there, and that he did not like London. Then there was talk
among them, and the word Torquay was mentioned. The head doctor seemed
to agree, but as he was leaving, changed his mind.

"Too long a journey," he said, "it would knock him up. Give me that
list. Here, this place will do; quite close and got up regardless, I am
told, for she's very rich. That's what he wants--comfort and
first-class food," and with a nod to Godfrey, who was listening in an
idle fashion, quite indifferent as to his destination, he was gone.

Next day they carried him off in an ambulance through the crowded
Strand, and presently he found himself at Liverpool Street, where he
was put into an invalid carriage. He asked the orderly where he was
going, but the man did not seem to know, or had forgotten the name. So
troubling no more about it he took a dose of medicine as he had been
ordered, and presently went to sleep, as no doubt it was intended that
he should do. When he woke up again it was to find himself being lifted
from another ambulance into a house which was very dark, perhaps
because of the lighting orders, for now night had fallen. He was
carried in a chair up some stairs into a very nice bedroom, and there
put to bed by two men. They went away, leaving him alone.

Something puzzled him about the place; at first he could not think what
it was. Then he knew. The smell of it was familiar to him. He did not
recognise the room, but the smell he did seem to recognise, though
being weak and shaken he could not connect it with any particular house
or locality. Now there were voices in the passage, and he knew that he
must be dreaming, for the only one that he could really hear sounded
exactly like to that of old Mrs. P