"What was it?" she said. "What happened?"

He didn't pretend not to understand her.

"Oh, nothing. Conway and Mrs. Rankin didn't hit it off very well
together."

They spoke in low, rapid tones, conscious, always, of the wards behind
the shut doors. Her feet went fast and noiseless beside his as he hurried
to the operating theatre. They came out on to the wide landing and waited
there by the brass lattice of the lift.

"How do you mean, hit it off?"

"Oh well, she thought he didn't come up quick enough with a stretcher,
and she pitched into him."

"But he was dead beat. Done. Couldn't she see that?"

"No. I don't suppose she could. She was a bit excited."

"She was horrible." Now that Mrs. Rankin was back safe she hated her. She
knew she hated her.

"A bit cruel, perhaps. All the same," he said, "she was magnif--"

The lift had come hissing and wailing up behind him. The orderly stood in
it, staring at Sutton's back, obsequious, yet impatient. She thought of
the wounded men in the theatre downstairs.