“No,” she laughed. “This is the Patent Office building, that covers two blocks, now a temporary hospital. There are seventy thousand wounded soldiers in town, and more coming on every train. The thirty-five hospitals are overcrowded.”
He closed his eyes a moment in silence, and then spoke with a feeble tremor:
“I’m afraid you don’t know who I am—I can’t impose on you—I’m a rebel——”
“Yes, I know. You are Colonel Ben Cameron. It makes no difference to me now which side you fought on.”
“Well, I’m in heaven—been dead a long time. I can prove it, if you’ll play again.”
“What shall I play?”
“First, ‘O Jonny Booker Help dis Nigger.’”
She played and sang it beautifully.
“Now, ‘Wake Up in the Morning.’”
Again he listened with wide, staring eyes that saw nothing except visions within.