"Not--a friend!" he said again, and stopped, gazing before him with eyes curiously contracted as the eyes of one striving to discern something a long way off.
Macfarlane slipped a hand under his elbow.

"Look here," he said, "you must have a rest.

You can be spared for a bit now.

Walk back with me to the hospital, and we will see how things are going there." His hand closed urgently.

He began to draw him away.
Merryon's eyes came back as it were out of space, and gave him a quick side-glance that was like the turn of a rapier.