A jerk of his fat thumb towards the dim interior was his only answer.
"Please, may I use it?"
He nodded indifferently, and then she was hurrying in the direction indicated.
The instrument was on the wall, and Polly on tiptoe could not reach the mouthpiece. Looking around for a possible foot-stool, she spied a small box, which might have been used before for a similar service, and pulling it into position she found that it brought her to the proper height. With a trembling hand she lifted the receiver from its hook. She was familiar with the hospital number, and gave it without hesitation.
"Put in your nickel!" came distinctly to her ear.
Polly started in dismay. This was a pay station!
"I—have n't any!" she faltered pathetically, and the merciless snap of the wire told her that her last hope had been cut off.
She pushed the box back where she had found it, and walked slowly out of the shop. Her feet still lagged when she turned towards the tenement. What mattered it if Aunt Jane should return and find her absent? What mattered anything now? Then came a sudden daring temptation. The road was free—and she was there! Why not keep on to the hospital? She looked down—her skirts were inches above her knees! If only Aunt Jane had not insisted that she wear Sophia's petticoats, to match the length of the borrowed dress! Could she brave the crowded streets in such attire? One thought of those she loved best brought instant decision. She could dare anything for their sakes. With a shrinking, fast-beating heart. She turned, and went quickly forward.
She had not gone far, when ahead, whirling towards her, seemed a familiar object. Could it be? There were other dark green automobiles—but it was!—it was Dr. Dudley!
Polly dashed into the road,—perilously near the track of the approaching car,—wildly waving her hands. It stopped almost at her feet, and then she was in Dr. Dudley's arms.