She shuddered at the bluntness of the words; then rallied her courage, and said frankly:
“Doctor, that is why I wished to speak with you, to ask you for the plain truth. Is Royall Sherwood going to live or die?”
“The issues of life and death are in God’s hands alone,” evasively.
“But you are skilled in reading the signs, and you told Mrs. Fleming that he had one chance of life.”
“Yes, I told her so; but it is so very slight, and life hangs on a thread. The operation to remove the bullet was very exhausting, but successful. He lies now in a comatose condition, from which he may rally to make a struggle for renewed existence, or he may sink soon into the sleep of death.”
“Death!” What an awfully solemn word it was! How it shook her nerves! She burst into hysterical sobs, and Doctor Burns hastily prepared a sedative, and forced her to swallow it.
“You need it. It will give you sleep,” he said gently.
After a painful struggle with her crowding emotions, she continued:
“You have promised to be my friend, so tell me what to do. You understand, I mean to be free of this marriage, whether Mr. Sherwood lives or dies? Then what must I do? Leave the house to-day?”
“Most certainly not! To do so would destroy his one chance of life,” he exclaimed, with the anxiety of a physician.