"I'll have one in half an hour. How is he?"
"Bad."
Within the time prescribed Pat was back with the nurse. She found Dee in the library waiting. The young wife's face was sallow, her eyes wide and shining and fixed.
"Oh, Dee! don't!" begged Pat. "You look so afraid."
"I am afraid," was the monotoned reply.
"Is he going to die?"
"I don't know. That's what I'm afraid of. I'm afraid he isn't."
"Dee!"
"I know, I know how it sounds. I don't care. When the word first came they said he was killed. I was glad."
Pat stared at her aghast.