“What then? What then remains? What am I to do? How live? O God, if only I had perished of the plague! I see now ... I see that the worst wrong Randal Holles ever did me was when he saved my miserable life.”
“Hush, hush! What are you saying, child?” The doctor set a comforting arm about her shoulders. “You are not utterly alone,” he assured her gently. “I am still here, to serve you, my dear, and I am your friend.”
“Forgive me,” she begged him.
He patted her shoulder. “I understand. I understand. It is very hard for you, I know. But you must have courage. While we have health and strength, no ill of life is beyond repair. I am old, my dear; and I know. Let us consider now your case.”
“My friend, it is beyond considerations. Who can help me now?”
“I can, for one; that is my intention.”
“But in what way?”
“Why, in several ways at need. But first I can show you how you may help yourself.”
“Help myself?” She looked up at him, frowning a little in her mystification.