Joan looked at the white patient face and was silent. What would be the use of senseless contradiction. The woman knew. It would only seem an added stab of mockery. She knelt beside the bed, and took the thin hands in hers.
“I think God must want you very badly,” she said, “or He wouldn’t have laid so heavy a cross upon you. You will come?”
The woman did not answer in words. The big tears were rolling down her cheeks. There was no paint to mingle with and mar them. She drew the little metal box from under the pillow and gave it into Joan’s hands.
Joan crept out softly from the room.
The nurse was standing by the window. She turned sharply on Joan’s entrance. Joan slipped the box into her hands.
The nurse raised the lid. “What a fool I’ve been,” she said. “I never thought of that.”
She held out a large strong hand and gave Joan a longish grip. “You’re right,” she said, “we must get her out of this house at once. Forgive me.”
Phillips had been called up north and wired that he would not be able to get down till the Wednesday evening. Joan met him at the station.
“She won’t be expecting you, just yet,” she explained. “We might have a little walk.”
She waited till they had reached a quiet road leading to the hills.