“Thankee-sai,” Susan calls after him. She doesn’t let herself draw a deep, shaking breath until he’s out of sight.

There’s a bowl in the bathroom, along with the promised salve, and her hairbrush and comb. Susan fills the bowl with water as hot as she can stand and takes it to the low table near her sofa, then brings everything else.

It helps, to have something to do to keep her from thinking.