“I went to fetch a nurse,” Pierre replied.
“A nurse! What d’you want a nurse for?” the man enquired.
“If you let the prisoner die, he won’t be no use to us,” Pierre answered.
The man made no reply, but led the way into what Isa saw had once been a well-built warehouse, but now it was falling down and none of the windows on either side had any glass in them.
They were merely covered over with dirty rags and in the centre where there had once been storage, there were tables and broken stools.
Although the light was very bad, Isa could see that rough beds were laid out on the higher side of the building.
She did not speak, but followed Pierre.
She carried in her hand the bag she had bought at the chemist, which contained all the things she felt that a nurse would require for a man who
