“She––she’s saving my life,” he whispered, hoarsely. “She’s tireless and––and kindness itself. Don’t––don’t let her get played out.”
He put out a brown hand that had rapidly become very thin and touched the girl’s arm, after which he lay back, exhausted by his slight effort. The doctor went to work again, baring the wound, injecting fluids, adjusting the drains, and as he busied himself he always found the girl at his side, with all that he needed ready at his hand.
“That’ll do for a while,” he finally said. “The drainage is good. He isn’t absorbing much poison now, that’s sure. If we can keep up his strength he’s going to pull through, I hope. Get us a bite of supper, Stefan, I’m as hungry as a bear.”
He put out a brown hand and touched the girl’s arm
During the night the doctor dozed off again, at times, like a man well versed in conserving his energy. But whenever he awoke he found Madge wide awake, intently observing the patient or busy with something for his comfort. The sky had cleared again and the great trunks were again cracking in the frost of the bright and starlit night. Dr. Starr had been staring for some moments at the girl. He shivered a little and drew his stool nearer the stove. Stefan was again snoring on the floor.
“Come over here,” he told Madge in a low voice, “bring your seat with you. I want to get something off my mind.”
“You needn’t answer if you don’t wish to,” he told her, “but––but there’s something rather tragic about that little face of yours. I don’t think it’s idle curiosity, but I’d like to know. I might as well confess that I’ve been questioning that fellow Stefan about you, but the sum of his knowledge is best represented by zero. I can assure you that I don’t want to intrude and that I won’t be a bit offended if you tell me it’s none of my business.”