Now this field was past--they
were so much nearer. Soon they would be over there where the track
curved--that was a long way ahead. They were going faster now. She would
lean forward again--pushing on, trying through the straining of her own
nerves to make the train go faster.
Mrs. Rolfe had wanted to come with her, but she said no. It seemed she
could get there faster by herself. There had been an hour's wait for the
train; it made her sick, even now, to think back to that hour. At least
this was doing something, getting somewhere. She had telegraphed to every
one she could think of, but no reply had come up to the time the train
started. She reasoned that out with herself, now for good, now for bad.
And then--if he were better, if there were anything good to tell--
Her temples were thumping more loudly than the train thumped. Her heart
was choking her. Her throat was so tight she could not breathe. Again and
again she went over it to herself. Dr. Parkman had operated on Karl. Of
course Dr.
Pages:
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411