“Dr. Owen, I will not conceal from you that Mrs. Wells is in great peril. I have no more doubt that she will die tomorrow night, unless she consents to do something that I have already indicated to her as necessary, than I have of your presence in this room.”
“Extraordinary! Do you really mean that? What is this thing? Is it a definite thing, or is it some—some spiritual thing?”
Dr. Leroy sighed and shook his head.
“It's hard for you to believe, isn't it? I suppose you want me to give Mrs. Wells a dose of medicine or put a hot water bag at her feet. No, doctor, it's much more difficult than that.”
The veteran pondered this in puzzled exasperation.
“If Mrs. Wells does this definite thing that you have told her to do, will she be saved?”
“Yes, I think so,” Leroy spoke confidently.
There came a knock at the office door, but both men were so absorbed in their conversation that they paid no attention to it.
“Is there any doubt about her doing this definite thing that will save her?”
“That's the trouble, she fights against doing it with all her strength. She says she cannot do it. But I tell her she must do it!”