Of course it was lovely that he should want to sing it with her—but the way he sang it! He was in the wrong key and he came out two or three syllables behind on most of the lines, but undismayed by the sudden curtailment went boldly ahead on the next. And Mary had been much relieved when the hymn was ended and the book was closed. So now she waited very patiently for her husband to make some move toward starting. By and by he got up and they went out. No sooner was the door closed behind them than the “ting-a-ling-ling-ling” was heard. The doctor threw open the door and went back. Mary, waiting at the threshold, heard one side of the dialogue.
“Yes.”
“Down where?”
“Shake up your 'phone. I can't hear you.”
“That's better. Now what is it?”
“Swallowed benzine, did she? How much?... That won't kill her. Give her some warm water to drink. And give her a spoonful of mustard—anything to produce vomiting...... She has? That's all right. Tell her to put her finger down her throat and vomit some more..... No, I think it won't be necessary for me to come down..... You would? Well, let me hear again in the next hour or two, and if you still want me I'll come. Good-bye.”
They walked down the street and as they drew near the office they saw the figure of the office boy in the doorway silhouetted against the light within. He was looking anxiously in their direction. Suddenly he disappeared and the faint sound of a bell came to their ears. They quickened their pace and as they came up the boy came hurriedly to the door again.
“Is that you, Doctor?” he asked, peering out.
“Yes.”
“I told a lady at the 'phone to wait a minute, she's 'phoned twice.” Mary waited at the door while her husband went into the office and over to the 'phone.