CHAPTER XIA squeak and a rattle, and down comes the sail… But there’s no breeze, she thought. It’s so hot… She was bathed in sweat, her hair was damp on her forehead, her eyelids were glued together. So unbearably hot…
Then there was a soft whirr, and the breeze came against her face, and she sighed.
“My dear lady… Are you better?”
“It’s—you?” she said, with difficulty, because her tongue felt thick.
“I have some hot coffee here…”
Hot coffee—from morning till night, she thought. Mrs. Barley had hot coffee.… I had hot coffee in Mrs. Fish’s room… I’m sick and tired of hot coffee.
The pillows were moving, relentlessly pushing up her heavy head. She got her eyes open and looked up at Mr. Fernandez in the dim light. He was holding a cup to her lips.
“No…” she said.
“Doctor Tinker said—”
