Mordred answered the phone early in the morning -- the woman didn't identify herself, but she didn't need to; the voice was unmistakable. They put him in the hospital, she'd said, and little by little he dug the whole story out of her. Eventually, after he'd run through all the profanity he knew several times, he left for the hospital.
It's the day after Morgause's visit. He locates the floor, finds his way with grim singlemindedness, presents himself dutifully to the nurses: small, worn-looking man, shabby but neat, his sharp voice moderated by humility.