“I have brought her round. Night after night I’ve brought her.”
“What do you do?”
“I don’t know what I do. But it works. Haven’t you noticed she gets better in the night when I’ve had her; and that she slips back in the day?”
“Yes, I have.”
“You see, Mr. Hollyer, Dr. Ransome’s made up his mind. And when the doctor makes up his mind that the patient’s going to die, ten to one the patient does die. It lowers their resistance. It isn’t every one that would feel it; but your mother would.”
“If,” she went on, “I had her day and night, I might save her.”
“You really think that?”
“I think there’s a chance.”
He didn’t know whether he believed her or not. Dr. Ransome shrugged his shoulders and said Nurse Eden could try it if she liked. She had a wonderful way with her; but he wouldn’t advise Hollyer to count on it. Nothing but a miracle, he said, could save his mother.
Hollyer didn’t count on Nurse Eden’s way. But he thought—something stronger than himself compelled him to think—that his mother would not die.