§ 3
Dr. McPherson was standing beneath the single electric globe that was in use. Beside him, on a level with his shoulder, stood the nurse. In his hand he held a portion of newspaper, crumpled and partially torn.
He said: “H’m, yes. Very possibly.... Are you certain she read it?”
The nurse said: “I think she must have done. It was lying on the floor as if she had thrown it down....”
And the doctor’s voice boomed back: “H’m, yes. Very pathetic.... But of course her illness accounts for her bad performance. She ought to have realized that....”
Catherine’s heart gave a sudden leap. Of course! That was it! Why had she not thought of that before? She was ill. That accounted for her bad playing, the nurse, the doctor, everything.... When she recovered she would be able to play again all right! Of course! What a fool she had been! This was only illness ... illness. She began to cry for joy at this new hope that had sprung up in her heart....