Mary pushed her out of the room and turned to the patient, who was lying on the bed.
"Don't be a bit frightened," said Mary. "I don't believe you're very sick. Keep still and I'll undress you."
She felt quite composed and wholly in command of herself; it was as if she were doing something entirely commonplace and all planned in advance.
"It—it isn't just being sick," said Miss Norcross weakly. "I'm not afraid of that. It's the job—the money. I need it so. Oh, please—don't bother. I can take off my own shoes."
"Keep still," ordered Mary. "We'll have the doctor very soon."
"Doctor!" moaned the patient. "That's more money."
"Stop talking about money. Be quiet. Would you like a drink of water?"
When Mary returned with a glass she found her patient sitting up, staring at her with frightened eyes that were luminous with fever.
"I've got to talk about money!" she exclaimed. "Why, I haven't even five dollars to my name."