I even gave my
estimate of the time." He swung his chair around and looked out at the
roof of the building below, and then turned sharply back to her. "You
said a while ago that this looked like a home. Well, it's not. It's like
a good many other things--empty show. Where that man lives, it's not much
for looks, but it _is_ a home, and this means--breaking it up. In there a
minute ago, I told him he had to lose the only thing in life he cares
anything about. He--oh, well!" and with one of his abrupt changes, he
turned away.
But Ernestine was leaning forward in her chair. Her lips were parted. Her
eyes were very dark.
"Cancer--you say, doctor?"--her voice was so low he could barely catch
it. "Cancer?"
He nodded, looking at her intently.
"But that's what Karl's working on! That's what Karl's doing this very
minute!"
"Yes, and do you ever think of it like that? Do you ever think of the
lives and homes he is going to save; the tragedies and heartbreaks he is
going to avert; the children he is going to keep from being motherless or
fatherless if he does do this thing?--and I believe with all my heart
he will! I tell you, Mrs.
Pages:
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93