home.

The same old Negro woman admitted her and she stepped into the hall
and stood waiting. Back in the shadow, in an open doorway, Mrs. Mosby
and a stout, thickset man with stubbly black hair were talking in low
tones. The Negro woman hurried past them back into the passage, and
they moved aside a little as she passed. The last words of the
conversation came faintly to Mary Louise's ears; the stout man was
talking:

"Must build him up," he was saying. "Keep the windows open, give him
plenty to eat, all he wants." Then Mrs. Mosby's sibilant but inaudible
reply. And then again, "He's used himself up. No reserve. Not prepared
for an emergency like this."

She sat dumbly wondering; it was most probably Dr. Withers, the new
doctor. The monotonous hum of their voices suddenly ceased and he was
walking past her toward the door, pursing his lips in an odd sort of
way. He looked at her as he passed, and reached for his hat. She did
not hear the door close after him. Mrs. Mosby was speaking to her with
a slight frown on her face.

"Just go on up, my dear. Ell bedroom, on the left. I'll be up
directly."

She climbed the stairs in a maze. The silence was the most noticeable
thing about the place unless it was the clinging, indescribable odour.

She found the door without difficulty and softly pushed it open. A
draught of chill air greeted her, and there was a dim glow on the
carpet from an open-grate fire in the wall opposite. Behind the door
stood the bed, with its head against the wall, and in the bed lay Joe.

For a moment she could not realize it was he, the light was so dim,
the figure so indistinct, so swathed in its covers. He turned his head
at the sound of her footsteps and looked at her.

"Hullo," he said weakly.

All her reserves collapsed within her and she came and sat on the
edge of the bed. She looked down into his face and could not speak; a
change which she could not begin to detail had come over him. He
smiled, "Was wondering about you to-day," he said.

She reached out and took his hand. It was very hot. Two bright spots
burned in his cheeks and his eyes had that peculiar, hollow, sunken
look she had seen once or twice before. Two days had passed. The
realization that it was but two days shocked her.

"Funny," he was saying. "That night--you remember--I met old Burrus
coming out of your house. I wondered then what he could be doing.
Well--he was just on my trail. Fact."

"Yes," she said. "He br