“I believe so,—yes.”
She drew a little package from her pocket, held it a moment, then let it roll to the floor forgotten. When I picked it up, the soft, tissue-paper wrapper was wet and hot with tears.
“Mary?”
“Yes.”
“I never thought of the little trimming till the last minute. I had another errand.”
I waited.
“I thought at first I would not tell you just yet. But I suppose the time has come; it will be no more easy to put it off. I have been to Worcester all these times to see a doctor.”
I bent my head in the dark, and listened for the rest.
“He has his reputation; they said he could help me if anybody could. He thought at first he could. But to-day—Mary, see here.”
She walked feebly towards the window, where a faint, gray light struggled in, and opened the bosom of her dress....