I felt much too unsteady on my feet and in such an ill humor it was all I could do to be led downstairs by Sofia and into the clutches of Anetta. Such a scene was inevitable, for I had been told of her repeated attempts to enter the sickroom. Afterward, I was too upset to converse with anyone at table or force more than a few mouthfuls of food down my throat. In just moments I was also too light-headed to sit comfortably and had to beg Sofia to take me back. “The little excursion did you good,” she kept saying on our way upstairs. “You must begin to build up your strength again.” What I can’t understand is how one can build upon something that is missing. I all but threw myself onto my bed as soon as we made our way into the hospital room. I clung to it as if it were a raft, and soon fell fast asleep, not waking again until the candles were being lit and their soft light flickered and fell over empty beds and those few occupied by the girls who were mending and those still with fever.
