NICHOLLS (helping him on with his overcoat, anxious to have him go). All right, Doctor.
GAYNOR (puts on his hat). And do your best to cheer the patient up when you talk to her. Give her confidence in her ability to get well. That's half the battle. And she'll believe it, coming from you.
NICHOLLS (hastily). Yes, yes, I'll do all I can.
GAYNOR (turns to the door and shakes Nicholls' hand sympathetically). And don't take it to heart too much yourself. There's every hope, remember that. In six months she'll come back to you her old self again.
NICHOLLS (nervously). It's hard on a fellow—so suddenly—but I'll remember—and—— (Abruptly). Good night, Doctor.
GAYNOR. Good night.
(He goes out. The outer door is heard shutting behind him. Nicholls closes the door, rear, and comes back and sits in the chair in front of table. He rests his chin on his hands and stares before him, a look of desperate, frightened calculation coming into his eyes. Carmody is heard clumping heavily down the stairs. A moment later he enters. His expression is glum and irritated.)
CARMODY (coming forward to his chair by the stove). Has he gone away?
NICHOLLS (turning on him with a look of repulsion). Yes. He told me to tell you he'd be back to-morrow with definite information—about the sanatorium business.
CARMODY (darkly). Oho, he did, did he? Maybe I'll surprise him. I'm thinkin' it's lyin' he is about Eileen's sickness, and her lookin' as fresh as a daisy with the high colour in her cheeks when I saw her now.