Again:
“But there never was no baby.”
And then, at last:
“But there never was no baby.”
He put the coin in the toe of Emmy’s stocking and went to bed and closed his eyes—to watch. And his last words were:
“Tired—tired—tired—Emmy!”
He dozed and made himself wake so often, and nothing had happened, that he grew afraid and much more tired. And the red went out of his cheeks, and he could feel his face becoming very cold.
He dozed a long time, at last without waking.
Then they outside, seeing this, came in—all those neighbors—stealthily, whispering and going toward his bed. Some one brought a candle and held it so close to his eyes that it scorched and tortured him. He woke; he was tremendously terrified by their stealth, but he did not understand at all—he who had never had such thoughts as theirs.
They did not know that he was awake.