is curious ugliness; the dreadful thing
was that it seemed to be his spirit which informed his flesh, an
inherent unloveliness of soul upon which the body was modeled, worked
out faithfully, and so made visible. Figure to yourself one with the
fine shape of the welter-weight, steel-muscled, lithe, powerful,
springy, slim in the hips and waist, broad in the shoulders; the arms
unusually long, giving him a terrible reach, the head round,
well-shaped, covered with thick reddish hair; cold, light, and
intelligent eyes, full of animosity and suspicion, reminding you
unpleasantly of the rattlesnake's look, wary, deadly, and ready to
strike. When he thought, his forehead wrinkled. His lips shut upon
each other formidably and without softness, and the jaws thrust
forward with the effect as of balled fists. One ear was slightly
larger than the other, having the appearance of a swelling upon the
lobe. In this unlovely visage, filled with distrust and concentrated
venom, only the nose retained an incongruous and unexpected niceness.
It was a good straight nose, yet it had something of the pleasant
tiptiltedness of a child's. It was the sort of nose which should have
complemented a mouth formed for spontaneous laughter. It looked
lonesome and out of place in that set and lowering countenance, to
which the red straggling stubble of beard sprouting over jaws and
throat lent a more sinister note.

We had had many a sad and terrible case in our Guest Rooms, but
somehow this seemed the saddest, hardest and most hopeless we had yet
encountered.

For three weary weeks had we struggled with him, until the doctor,
sighing with physical relief, said he was out of danger and needed
only such nursing as he was sure to get.

"One does one's duty as one finds it, of course," said the big doctor,
looking down at the unpromising face on the pillow, and shaking his
head. "Yes, yes, yes, one must do what's right, on the face of it,
come what will. There's no getting around _that!_" He glanced at me, a
shadow in his kind gray eyes. "But there are times, my friend, when I
wonder! Now, this morning I had to tell a working man his wife's got
to die. There's no help and no hope--she's got to die, and she a
mother of young children. So I have to try desperately," said the
doctor, rubbing his nose, "to cling tooth and claw to the hope that
there is Something behind the scenes that knows the forward-end of
things--sin and sorrow and disease and sufferin