Then the doctor came and went, much encouraged. And then Mary went down to her solitary supper. Nora came in to wait upon her, still incongruously attired in the lavender gown, but pale and lowering.
"Nora, have you been in to see Laurence?" asked Mary gently.
Nora shook her head sharply.
"You'd like to see him tomorrow, wouldn't you, if he keeps as well as today?"
"He hasn't asked to see me, I guess," said Nora coldly.
"No, he hasn't asked for anybody, he's too weak to talk. But I'm sure he'd like to see you," Mary said, still studiously kind.
"When he asks for me, I'll go," Nora flashed out. Her whole face was ablaze, her eyes flamed. "And you shouldn't have let that woman up there—she's always after him, she writes to him, there's packs of letters from her—"
"How do you know?"
"Oh, I didn't open the letters ... but I know!... What right has she to come here and want to see him?"