"But the papers have been full of—"
"Perhaps," she said interrupting him, "but I have not looked at a paper since I read of the death of George."
Here she broke down again and sobbed so that the guard outside the cell turned his back; and the old engineer, growing nervous, a thing unusual for him, decided to scold her.
"You must brace up now, Nora,—Mrs. Cowels, and close your sand valve. You've got a heavy load and a bad rail, and you mustn't waste water in this way."
"Oh! I shall never be able to do it, Dan, I shall die—I don't want to live and I shall die."
"You'll do nothing of the sort—women don't die so easy; thousands of others, not half as brave as you are, have made the same run, hard as it seems, and have come in on time. There are few sorrows that time will not heal. Engine-men are born to die, and their wives to weep over them and live on—you will not die."
"But I—I shall die," sobbed the woman.
Before he could reply the door opened and an elderly man, plainly, but comfortably dressed, stood before them.
Moran gave his hand to the newcomer in silence and it was taken in silence; then, turning to the veiled figure he said: "Mrs. Cowels, this is our master-mechanic."
When the visitor had taken her hand and assured her of his sympathy, Moran asked them to be seated, and standing before them said: