His head moved uneasily upon his pillow; but he was silent.
“Please answer me,” she urged. “It is very important.”
He turned upon her almost shortly. “How can I tell? I never analyzed the water. I couldn’t do it if I wanted to. You know that I am working my way through college. I have only had one year of chemistry. On the rolls of the Board of Health, I am carried as a laborer. I get samples and certify to the time and place I took them. The laboratory analyzes them.”
“You were around the laboratory. You brought in the samples. Naturally you must have had some interest in the matter–in your work. Won’t you tell me what you know?”
“Why ask me?” he complained sharply. “I shouldn’t discuss this matter with you, Virginia. Talk to your father. He knows all about the case. Let him tell you.”
“My father knows!” she exclaimed. She leaned over the bed and gazed down at him. Though she had guessed his answer, she must have it in words. “Joe,” she whispered, “you promised to be my friend. I must know the truth. I can trust you. Please tell me about the water.”
There was a pathetic pleading in her eyes which tore at his heart. He tried to resist the spell she cast about him but his face softened beneath her gaze. “I’m sorry, little girl,” he whispered, and then blurted suddenly, “Everybody connected with the Board of Health knows that the waste makes the water fierce. It’s not fit for a dog to drink.”
That afternoon Obadiah arrived home early. Perhaps he meant to patch up a peace with his daughter. He asked for her as soon as he entered the house and seemed disappointed when he learned that she had gone out.
Virginia came back from the hospital soon after the arrival of her father. Serena met her when she arrived, after having viewed her employer with great hostility through an opening in the portières. The old negress’ eyes were keen enough to read the shadow of apprehension lurking in the depths of the blue eyes. To the faithful servitor it indicated the approach of sorrow or tragedy to this peaceful domestic haven. She sought to intervene against fate. “Ain’ you bettah res’ youse’f befo’ dinner, honey chil’? You’ Daddy, he’s a readin’ his papah an’ ain’ want to be ’sturbed,” she urged.
There was determination in the girl’s face. She pushed aside the black hand which in kindness would have detained her. “No, Serena, I must see him at once,” she said, and passed on into the living room.