tions were on the part of the most
skilled surgeons. Though not caused by, it was diagnosed by, certain
kidney changes. What Eugene had been spared while he was out in the hall
was the sight of Angela staring, her mouth pulled to one side in a
horrible grimace, her body bent back, canoe shape, the arms flexed, the
fingers and thumbs bending over each other to and fro, in and out,
slowly, not unlike a mechanical figure that is running down. Stupor and
unconsciousness had immediately followed, and unless the child had been
immediately brought into the world and the womb emptied, she and it
would have died a horrible death. As it was she had no real strength to
fight her way back to life and health. A Christian Science practitioner
was trying to "realize her identity with good" for her, but she had no
faith before and no consciousness now. She came to long enough to vomit
terribly, and then sank into a fever. In it she talked of Eugene. She
was in Blackwood, evidently, and wanted him to come back to her. He held
her hand and cried, for he knew that there was never any recompense for
that pain. What a dog he had been! He bit his lip and stared out of the
window.

Once he said: "Oh, I'm no damned good! I should have died!"

That whole day passed without consciousness, and most of the night. At
two in the morning Angela woke and asked to see the baby. The nurse
brought it. Eugene held her hand. It was put down beside her, and she
cried for joy, but it was a weak, soundless cry. Eugene cried also.

"It's a girl, isn't it?" she asked.

"Yes," said Eugene, and then, after a pause, "Angela, I want to tell you
something. I'm so sorry, I'm ashamed. I want you to get well. I'll do
better. Really I will." At the same time he was wondering, almost
subconsciously, whether he would or no. Wouldn't it be all the same if
she were really well--or worse?

She caressed his hand. "Don't cry," she said, "I'll be all right. I'm
going to get well. We'll both do better. It's as much my fault as yours.
I've been too hard." She worked at his fingers, but he only choked. His
vocal cords hurt him.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry," he finally managed to say.

The child was taken away after a little while and Angela was feverish
again. She grew very weak, so weak that although she was conscious
later, she could not speak. She tried to make some signs. Eugene, the
nurse, Myrtle, understood. The baby. It was brought and held up before
her. She smile