"Ready to settle down, Mrs. West?" she asked.
"Yes, thank you."
The voice that had once seemed tender was oversmooth and false. How deceptive'-' are ears, thought Marda West, what traitors to truth. And for the first time she became aware of her own new power, the power to tell truth from falsehood, good from evil.
"Good night, Mrs. West."
"Good night."
Lying awake, Marda West decided upon her plan. She got out of bed. She took her clothes from the wardrobe and began to dress. She put on her coat and shoes andtied a scarf over her head. When she was ready she went to the door and softly turned the handle. All was quiet in the corridor. She stood there motionless. Then she took one step across the threshold and looked to the left, where the nurse on duty sat. The snake was there. The snake was sitting bent over a book.
Marda West waited. She was prepared to wait for hours. Presently the sound she hoped for came, the bell from a patient. The snake lifted its head from the book and checked the red light on the wall. Then, she glided down the corridor to the patient's room. She knocked and entered. Directly she had disappeared Marda West left her own room and went downstairs and into the street.
Marda West was walking down the street. She turned right, and left, and right again, and in the distance she saw the lights of Oxford Street. She began to hurry. The friendly traffic drew her like a magnet, the distant lights, the distant men and women. When she came to Oxford Street she paused, wondering of a sudden where she should go, whom she could ask for refuge. And it came to her once again that there was no one, no one at all; because the couple passing her now, a toad's"-' head on a short black body clutching a panther's" arm, could give her no protection, and the policeman standing at the corner was a baboon", the woman talking to him a little pig. No one was human, no one was safe, the man a pace or two behind her was like Jim, another vulture. There were vultures on the pavement opposite. Coming towards her, laughing, was a jackal.
She turned and ran. She ran, bumping into them, jackals, hyenas'"-, vultures, dogs. The world was theirs, there was no human left. Seeing her run they turned and looked at her, they pointed, they screamed and yapped, they gave chase, their footsteps followed her. Down Oxford Street she ran, pursued by them, the night all darkness and shadow, the light no longer with her, alone in an animal world.
"Lie quite still, Mrs. West, just a small prick", I'm not going to hurt you."
She recognized the voice of Mr. Greaves, the surgeon, and dimly she told herself that they had got hold of her again.
They had replaced the bandages over her eyes, and for this she was thankful.
"Now, Mrs. West, I think your troubles are over. No pain and no confusion with these lenses. The world's in colour again."
The bandages were removed after all. And suddenly everything was clear, as day, and the face of Mr. Greaves smiled down at her. At his side was a rounded, cheerful nurse.
"Where are your masks?" asked the patient.
"We didn't need masks for this little job," said the sur geon. "We were only taking out the temporary lenses.
That's better, isn't it?"
She looked around. She was back again all right. All was in natural qolour.
"Something happened to me, didn't it?" she said. "I tried to get away."
The nurse glanced at the surgeon. He nodded his head.
"Yes," he said, "you did. And, frankly, I don't blame you. I blame myself. Those lenses I inserted yesterday were pressing upon a tiny nerve, and the pressure threw out your balance. That's all over now."
His smile was reassuring. And the large eyes of Nurse Brand – it must surely be Nurse Brand – gazed down at her in sympathy.
"It was very terrible," said the patient. "I can never explain how terrible."
"Don't try," said Mr Greaves. "I can promise you it won't happen again."
The door opened and the young physician entered. He too was smiling. "Patient fully restored?" he asked.
"I think so," said the surgeon. "What about it, Mrs. West?"
"I thought you were dogs," she said. "I thought you were a hunt terrier, Mr. Greaves, and that you were an Aberdeen."
She turned to Nurse Brand. "I thought you were a cow," she said, "a kind cow. But you had sharp horns."
Everybody took it in good part.
The doctors were moving towards the door, laughing,
and Marda West, sensing the normal atmosphere, the absence of all strain, asked Nurse Brand, "Who found me, then? What happened? Who brought me back?"
Mr. Greaves glanced back at her from the door. "You didn't get very far, Mrs. West. The porter followed you. The person who really had the full shock was poor Nurse Ansel when she found you weren't in your bed."
"Nurse Ansel is here now," said Nurse Brand. "She was so upset when she went off duty that she wouldn't go back to the hostel to sleep. Would you care to have a word with her?"
Before she could answer the house doctor opened the door and called down the passage.
"Mrs. West wants to say good morning to you," she said. Marda West stared, then began to smile, and held out her hand.
"I'm sorry," she said, "you must forgive me."
How could she have seen Nurse Ansel as a snake! The hazel eyes, the clear olive skin, the dark hair trim under the frilled cap. And that smile, that slow, understandingsmile.
"Forgive you, Mrs. West?" said Nurse Ansel. "What have I to forgive you for? You've been through a terrible thing."
Patient and nurse held hands. They smiled at one another. Nurse Ansel was so pretty, so gentle. "Don't think about it," she said, "You're going to be happy from now on. Promise me?"
"I promise," said Marda West.
The telephone rang, and Nurse Ansel let go her patient's hand and reached for the receiver. "You know who this is going to be," she said. "Your poor husband." She gave the receiver to Marda West.
"Jim... Jim, is that you?"
The loved voice sounding so anxious at the other end."Are you all right?" he said. "I've been through to Matron twice, she said she would let me know. What the devil has been happening?"
Marda West smiled and handed the receiver to the nurse.
"You tell him," she said.
Nurse Ansel held the receiver to her ear. The skin of her hand was olive smooth, the nails gleaming with a soft pink polish.
"Is that you, Mr. West" she said. "Our patient gave us a fright, didn't she?" She smiled and nodded at the woman in the bed. "Well, you don't have to worry any more. Mr. Greaves changed the lenses. They were pressing on a nerve, and everything is now all right. She can see perfectly. Yes, Mr. Greaves said we could come home tomorrow."
Marda West reached once more for the receiver.
"Jim, I had a hideous'4 night," she said. "I'm only just beginning to understand it now. A nerve in the brain…"
"So, I understand," he said. "Don't excite yourself. I'll be along later."
His voice went. Marda West gave the receiver to Nurse Ansel, who replaced it on the stand.
"Did Mr. Greaves really say I could go home tomorrow?" she asked.
"Yes, if you're good." Nurse Ansel smiled and patted her patient's hand. "Are you sure you still want me to come with you? she asked.
"Why, yes," said Marda West. "Why, it's all arranged."
"The most precious thing in the world," she said to Nurse Ansel, "is sight. I know now. I know what I might have lost."
Nurse Ansel nodded her head in sympathy. "You've got your sight back," she said, "that's the miracle. You won't ever lose it now."
She moved to the door. "I'll slip back to the hostel and get some rest," she said. "Now I know everything is well with you I'll be able to sleep. Is there anything you want before I go?"
"Give me my face-cream and my powder," said the patient, "and the lipstick and the brush and comb."
Nurse Ansel fetched the things from the dressing-table and put them within reach upon the bed. She brought the hand-mirror, too, and the bottle of scent.