“But I never bring Billy to the hospital.”
“He could have picked it up almost anywhere.”
Then with an appalling recollection Kitty saw herself and Billy in their boat going past that hospital dump in the marshes. That was where he had got the germ, she was positive. Subconsciously she had known it from the very beginning. That’s why she had felt so stunned by Billy’s sickness. Now that she honestly faced the results of her own carelessness, she felt she couldn’t endure it.
Noting her pale face and the misery in her eyes, Mr. Carter said, “Brad, please take her home for me.”
“I couldn’t leave till I know Billy’s going to be all right, Dad.”
“You can do absolutely nothing here, Kitty,” her father said almost severely. “He’s in most competent hands. Hazel’s going to nurse him, and I plan to stay on for the night. I have my own room I can use any time. I’ll see that everything possible is done. It will be a relief to me to know you’re home in bed.”
Kitty felt she could never sleep again, but said in a resigned tone, “All right, Dad. I’ll go.”
Seeing her so crushed he put his arm around her shoulder and went with her down the hall. “Go home and take a hot bath to calm your nerves, and get right into bed. I’ll phone you at six in the morning.”
That night as Kitty tossed about, sleepless for several hours, she made up her mind that if Billy recovered she would tell her father everything that had happened these last weeks to stir her suspicions. She blamed herself for her pride and conceit in hoping she, alone, could find an answer to those problems that were continually stumping the FBI.