"Our Father...." stumbled Bobby, ".... thank you ... ever so much...."
Then he drowsed off again.
A week later Sophy was sitting beside him as usual, and again he was sleeping. It was drawing towards sunset. A lovely glow filled the sky and lighted the yellowing trees in the Park.
Bobby waked suddenly and, gazing out of the window near his bed, pleaded:
"Mother ... I do so want to smell the out of doors.... Couldn't you open this window?"
Sophy called Anne Harding, who was in the next room.
"Do you think we might open it?" she asked, after telling her what Bobby wanted. "It's so mild to-day—like St. Martin's summer.... He wants it so much...."
"Of course we can," Anne answered cheerfully. "Dr. Fresh Air's the best doctor of 'em all."
She raised the sash and went back into the other room. Doctors and nurses left those two alone together as much as possible.