Collis looked out over the garden behind her. He knew damned well that it was no use arguing. It was ridiculous even to suppose that he could have persuaded her to leave. What had it to do with him, anyway, whether she lived or died? What had any of these people’s lives to do with him? A parakeet settled on the branch of a leafy plant outside, and whistled in the humid morning air. Collis looked back at Sister Agnes and shrugged.

‘I’m beginning to grow very fond of you,’ he said in his softest voice. ‘And I’m not trying to flirt with you. I had a stupid crazy idea that I could somehow make you realise that there’s a whole lot more to the world than what goes on here. You’ve already done more in two years than most people achieve in a lifetime. God can’t be anything but grateful. Why don’t you give it up while you’re still young, and still alive?’

‘You mustn’t fear for me,’ Sister Agnes replied. ‘God and Our Lady look after me always.’

She paused, and then added, ‘I’m an only daughter, you know. My father runs a small patisserie in Lokeren. They were so proud of me, my parents, when I joined the order. They tried to persuade me not to, of course, but once they knew that I was determined, they were proud.’

Collis took her hand. ‘I’m proud, too,’ he told her. ‘I didn’t really expect you to change your mind. But I hope you’ll remember that I tried, and that you won’t think too badly of me.’

‘I have to go now,’ said Sister Agnes. ‘We have three new sisters from France here today. They came on the train from Aspinwall. They have to be greeted, and shown what they will have to do.’

She kept hold of Collis’s hand, and she stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek, her white starched coif touching his shoulder.

‘I think you will be a very famous man one day,’ she said, with great earnestness. ‘My hope is that you won’t forget me, and that you won’t forget the reason I said I must stay.’

‘I won’t forget,’ he said. He opened the door wider for her. ‘Will you call by later and tell me how Hannah is?’

‘Of course.’

He stood by the door and watched her walk through the garden. Her coif disappeared behind the plants like a low-flying seagull. Then he turned back to his bare white rooms, and he was frowning like a man who realises he has just failed to do something important, but isn’t quite sure what. The bell on the hospital roof struck for morning prayers, and disturbed three huge black buzzards that had been perched on the terra-cotta coping. They circled, with rustling wings, and then settled again.