There was only one Cub Sterling in the world and in spite of every little thing which wasn’t right this was he. And if he sat in that chair another ten minutes she would never walk and talk again ... and if he didn’t sit there but came to her....
She staggered back at that thought and Emma ran to her.
“Don’t git yourself so excited, dearie. What’s that big-headed man to you? He ain’t nuthin’ but a doctor’s helper, doin’ his regular....”
Sally kept the glasses carefully focused and said, quite calmly:
“Did you ever seen him before, Emma?”
“Not as I kin recklek. But thin I ain’t no jedge. I ain’t no crazier ’bout lookin’ at hossbittles thin I is ’bout bein’ in thim, Miss Ferguson. I tell you lots of my frin’s done gone up to thet hossbittle and ain’t never bin heard frum since. Ef a body’s goin’ to die, he’s goin’ die, hossbittle or no hossbittle, I says. Look at my boy en the Argonah! I recklek whin he got hurt in a football scrimpage, over at Western High and they tried to take him to....”
Her chatter, like water in a distant bathtub during a bad dream, splashed past Sally’s brain. Then it ceased to register, for the man at the table had risen and was opening a drawer in the medicine cabinet.
And hope sprang suddenly high in Sally’s heart. His shoulders squared and were flat! Cub stooped....
But the shape of the head and the way the hair curled at the back of the neck sickened her, horribly. It was only when he reached in a hip pocket and drew out a handkerchief ... Cub carried his in his white coat breast pocket....
Then he reached back toward the table for the hypodermic syringe, and held it up to the light again.... And his left shoulder rose ... and Sally Ferguson’s eyes floated hopelessly, the stiff tensity of her body began to relax ... she staggered forward....