He had half an hour alone with Hilda before the Commander returned: she had been put in a private room on coming back from X-ray. They had talked a lot, about the children chiefly, so as not to have to face the intimations of silence. The Commander’s arrival was a small relief and a monstrous intrusion. From somewhere he had got hold of a box of liqueur chocolates, hot-house roses, and a bottle of Cordon Bleu brandy. He spread these out on her locker, and stared at her. When she thanked him, he said:

‘That’s all right. Doctor been back yet?’

‘Not yet.’

‘It’s an hour. I’m going to get him.’ He nodded towards Rod. ‘You might as well come, too.’

They found Miller in the ward. He said:

‘Ah yes, I was coming to see you.’

‘You’ve seen what it is, on the X-rays?’ the Commander asked.

‘The radiologist and I have looked at the plates, yes.’

‘Well, then?’

‘We agree there should be an exploratory operation.’

‘What for? What’s wrong with her?’

‘We shan’t know that until we make a physical examination.’

‘Look, come off it!’ The Commander lit up a cigarette directly opposite the sign saying NO SMOKING, and blew out smoke in nervous exasperation. ‘You’ve got some idea what it is.’

Miller looked at Rod. ‘There’s a shadow in the region of the cervix. Quite a large one. It could be a malignancy. I’m sorry.’