“Because she cared, I guess. He’s so fond of her that he wants to do more than ever she could ask him. And then, Randall’s a mighty just man, and he’s always most just when he’s most tempted.”
He looked down at me sidelong and silence fell between us. It was broken by the footfall of the nurse along the passage. I asked him quickly when I should be well enough to be moved.
“You’re some better now, but we mustn’t think of moving you yet, though, of course, you must go at the earliest.” Towards midnight the nurse took my temperature. I saw that she was surprised, for she took it a second time. “Have you any pain?” she asked me.
Randall Carpenter came in and they went away together. I lay staring up at the ceiling, my hands clenched and my eyes burning. They all knew; I alone was ignorant of what things I had said.
A carriage came bowling up the driveway. I recognized whose it was, for I had become familiar with the horse’s step. The doctor came into the room; as he bent over me our eyes met. I clutched his arm and he stooped lower. “Stay and talk with me,” I whispered. “You all look at me and none of you will tell me. I can’t bear it—can’t bear it any longer.”
“What can’t you bear?”
“Not knowing.”
When he had told them that there was no change for the worse and had sent them back to bed, he came and sat down beside me. The lights in the room were extinguished, save for a reading lamp in a far corner where the nurse had been sitting.
“I guess something’s troubling you. Take your time and tell me slowly. I’ll sure help you, if I can.”
“Doctor, you know about me and Mrs. Carpenter?”