The doctor signed to Ethel to come into the living-room.
"Are you to be in charge?" he asked. She looked at him and shivered.
She felt a pang of such loneliness as she had never known before.
"I know nobody—nothing—I don't know how you arrange," she said. "I've only been a month in town."
The doctor gave her a curious look of pity and uneasiness. It was as though he had told her, "I'm sorry, but don't count on me for help. I'm busy. This is New York, you know." He said:
"I'll see to the undertaker." She shivered again, and he added, "Don't you know some older woman here?"
This reminded her of the dinner which Amy was to have given that night.
A lump rose in her throat. She waited a moment and then she said:
"Yes, I know of several."
"That's good. You'd better send for them." And soon afterward he hurried away.
But just as Ethel was rising to go to the telephone, there was a ring at the door. She opened it, and a tall man, rather stooped, with iron grey hair and moustache, a lean but rather heavy face and deep-set impassive eyes, came in and said:
"I'm Joe's partner—Nourse, you know. How is it going? Better?"