“Lonely?” queried Sheila.
“Perhaps.”
“Neglected and—frightened?”
“What do you mean?”
The girl leaned over the bed and looked straight into the eyes that seemed to be daring her to find the way into his darkness and at the same time barring fast the door against her coming. She smiled gently. “Tell me—can you remember when you first began to fear sleep?”
There was no denial, no protest. Peter sighed as a little worn-out boy might have sighed with the irksome concealment of some forbidden act. “I don’t know,” he said at last. “I can’t think back to a time when I wasn’t afraid—afraid of the dropping out, into the dark. God!” He turned his head away, and for the first time in two weary, wakeful nights Sheila saw him close his eyes.
Off duty, instead of going to breakfast and bed, Sheila O’Leary went to the office of the superintendent of nurses. In her usual fashion she came straight to her point. “Put Saunders back on Number Three and give me a couple of days off. Please, Miss Max.”
Her abruptness shook the almost unshakable calm of Miss Maxwell. She gazed at the girl in frank amazement. “May I ask why?” There was a kindly irony in the question.
“Sounds queer, I know, but I’ve simply got to go. Lots depends on it, and no time now to explain. Want to catch that eight-thirty-five; Flanders is holding the bus. Tell you when I get back—please, Miss Max?” And taking consent for granted, Sheila started for the door.
There was an odd look on the face of the superintendent as she watched her go—a look of amused, loving pride. She might hide it from their little world, but she could not deny it to herself, that of all the girls she had helped to train, none had come so close to her heart as this girl with her wonderful insight, her honesty, her plain speaking, and her heart of gold. A hundred times she had defied the rules of the sanitarium, had swept the superintendent’s dignity to the four winds. And she would continue to do so, and they would continue to overlook it. Such petty offenses are forgiven the Leeries the world over. And now, watching the gray, alive figure climbing into the omnibus, Miss Maxwell had no mind to resent her breach of discipline. She knew the girl had asked nothing for herself; she had gone to do something for somebody who needed it, and she would report for duty again when that was accomplished.