"Are you going to wait here till he recovers?" whispered the
steward, looking toward the sofa, and trembling as he looked.
The question forced her to a sense of her position--to a
knowledge of the merciless necessities which that position now
forced her to confront. With a heavy sigh she looked toward
the sofa, considered with herself for a moment, and answered Mr.
Bashwood's inquiry by a question on her side.
"Is the cab that brought you here from the railway still at
the door?"
"Yes."
"Drive at once to the gates of the Sanitarium, and wait there
till I join you."
Mr. Bashwood hesitated. She lifted her eyes to his, and, with
a look, sent him out of the room.
"The gentleman is coming to, ma'am," said the landlady, as
the steward closed the door. "He has just breathed again."
She bowed in mute reply, rose, and considered with herself once
more--looked toward the sofa for the second time--then passed
through the folding-doors into her own room.
After a short lapse of time the surgeon drew back from the sofa
and motioned to the landlady to stand aside. The bodily recovery
of the patient was assured. There was nothing to be done now but
to wait, and let his mind slowly recall its sense of what had
happened.
Pages:
1246
1247
1248
1249
1250
1251
1252
1253
1254
1255
1256
1257
1258
1259
1260
1261
1262
1263
1264
1265
1266
1267
1268
1269
1270