“Did they give you a good supper?”
“Yes, it looked nice. I wasn’t hungry.”
“You ought to have been. I was!”
Doodles smiled. Polly was so bright, as if no gloom could ever touch her. Even Mrs. Corrigan would not be able to frighten her. He wished he were as brave. If only she hadn’t said that—that awful thing! Could it be true? Doodles shut his teeth hard—through Polly’s chatter the words rang and rang!
“They won’t let you have anything to eat to-morrow,” Polly was saying, “or to drink either; but you won’t care. I didn’t a bit. You don’t worry about to-morrow, do you? You mustn’t, because there isn’t anything to dread, not a single thing! Dr. Keith will examine your heart, just as father did. But you didn’t mind that, did you? And he may take your blood-pressure—that isn’t anything! It makes your arm feel funny for a minute—that’s all!”
“Who is Dr. Keith?”
“Perhaps you haven’t seen him. He’s ever so nice. He is the one that gives the anæsthetic.”
“Oh!” said Doodles weakly. “Is that the—the ether?” It was out—the terrible word! He had meant not to speak it.
“I don’t think they’ll give you ether—”
“Not give me ether!” Doodles’s voice was an amazed whisper.