'If Willie dies, what shall I do? Oh, what shall I do?' broke
forth between her sobs.
Reardon took her in his arms, and laid his hand upon her head in
the old loving way.
'Do you wish me to go up and see him, Amy?'
'Of course. But first, let me tell you why we are here. Edith--
Mrs Carter--was coming to spend a week with her mother, and she
pressed me to join her. I didn't really wish to; I was unhappy,
and felt how impossible it was to go on always living away from
you. Oh, that I had never come! Then Willie would have been as
well as ever.'
'Tell me when and how it began.'
She explained briefly, then went on to tell of other
circumstances.
'I have a nurse with me in the room. It's my own bedroom, and
this house is so small it will be impossible to give you a bed
here, Edwin. But there's an hotel only a few yards away.'
'Yes, yes; don't trouble about that.'
'But you look so ill--you are shaking so. Is it a cold you have
had long?'
'Oh, my old habit; you remember. One cold after another, all
through the accursed winter. What does that matter when you speak
kindly to me once more? I had rather die now at your feet and see
the old gentleness when you look at me, than live on estranged
from you.
Pages:
784
785
786
787
788
789
790
791
792
793
794
795
796
797
798
799
800
801
802
803
804
805
806
807
808