"After all, why not?" he repeated half-aloud. "I would give it to a
patient in my condition."
"But the patient wouldn't know what it was," a voice within himself
answered.
"I need something. I--" his hand went out toward the case--"I have never
done it before."
"You have seen others who have," said the voice again.
"This is an exceptionally trying time," he argued.
"There will be many more such times in your practice."
"But I must get some rest!" he cried, "I must!" He reached again for the
open case but paused--startled by the ringing of the door-bell.
Obeying the impulse of the moment he dropped into his chair and caught up
a paper.
Mam Liz's voice, in guarded tones came from the hall, "Yes marm, he's to
home, but he's plumb tuckered out. Is yo' got to see him? Yo' ain't
wantin' him to go out agin is yo'?"
Another voice answered, but the listening doctor could not distinguish
the reply.
"Oh sho mam. Come in, come in. He's in the library."
A moment the nurse stood, hesitating, in the doorway.
Dr. Harry sprang to his feet. "Miss Farwell! I'm glad to see you. I--"
Then he stopped looking at her in astonishment.
Very softly she closed the door behind her, and--going to the
table--closed the medicine case. Then lifting her eyes to him with a
meaning look she said simply, "I am glad, too."
He turned his face away. "You--you saw?"
"The window shades were up. I could not help it."
He dropped into the chair.
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