‘She may,’ said Sister Agnes. ‘As I said, there’s a little hope. But the fever is very high, and I have to warn you that anything could happen. She could die tonight.’

‘I see. Does she know herself? Is she conscious?’

‘No. She hasn’t been conscious for almost eight hours now.’

Collis nodded. He couldn’t think of anything else to say.

Sister Agnes waited for a moment, and then announced, ‘I’ve come for another reason, too.’

Collis looked up.

‘The California dropped anchor off the bay this morning. She’s due to sail for San Francisco on Monday morning. I believe that you are probably free of the fever, and that you will be able to sail with her.’

‘That’s four days from now.’

‘Yes.’

‘Supposing — well, supposing Mrs West is still alive in four days?’

Sister Agnes was silent. Collis paced around the tiled floor of the cottage and then turned and looked at her straight.

‘You don’t think she will be, is that it?’

‘The chances are not good, Mr Edmonds.’

He rubbed the back of his neck. He was so tired that he didn’t know what he felt any more. The days were nothing but waiting in his cottage, writing and staring out of the window; and the nights were hot and sweaty and plagued with insects. Whole years could have passed, and he wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference. The heat and the boredom of the equator seemed to drain away any will to do anything active or useful, and sometimes he stood for half an hour at a time, incapable of deciding whether he wanted to remain standing or whether he wanted to sit down again.

‘I know you’ve done everything possible,’ he said quietly. ‘You’ve been very kind. Not just to Mrs West, but to me, too.’

He looked at her. Framed in the doorway, she was as fragile and delicate as a painting by Botticelli. He found it hard to grasp how someone so feminine and attractive could be so spiritual. If she stayed here in this hospital in Panama, she would almost certainly be dead within two or three years. She might not even survive as long as that.

‘I was wondering if you’d ever consider leaving this place,’ he said.

‘Why should I do that? My life is here.’

‘I know. And your death will be here, too.’

‘You’re concerned about my safety?’ Sister Agnes smiled abstractedly. ‘You’re very thoughtful,’ she said.

‘But?’

‘But I couldn’t ever leave the hospital. This is where God needs me.’

‘Even though you probably won’t live to see twenty-five?’

‘If that’s what the Lord wills.’