“Not in the least,” the doctor answered dryly. “I see worse wounds every day of my life. I’ll come again to-morrow, if you like, but it really isn’t necessary with the nurse on the spot.”
His natural pessimism was for a moment lightened by the fee which Laverick pressed upon him, and he departed with a few more encouraging words. Laverick stayed and talked for a short time with the nurse.
“She has gone off to sleep now, sir,” the latter announced. “There isn’t anything to worry about. She seems as though she had been having a hard time, though. There was scarcely a thing in the house but half a packet of tea—and these.”
She held up a packet of pawn tickets.
“I found these in a drawer when I came,” she said. “I had to look round, because there was no money and nothing whatever in the house.”
Laverick was suddenly conscious of an absurd mistiness before his eyes.
“Poor little woman!” he murmured. “I think she’d sooner have starved than ask for help.”
The nurse smiled.
“I thought at first that she was rather a vain young lady,” she remarked. “An empty larder and a pile of pawn tickets, and a new hat with a receipted bill for thirty shillings,” she added, pointing to the sofa.
Laverick placed some notes in her hands.