"Be quiet," said the doctor in a stern voice. In half a minute more the linen bandages were being wrapped tightly over Mercy's eyes.
"Doctor, dear doctor, let me see my boy!" cried Mercy.
"Be quiet, I say," said the doctor again.
"Dear doctor, my dear doctor, only one peep—one little peep. I saw your face—let me see my Ralphie's."
"Not yet, it is not safe."
"But only for a moment. Don't put the bandage on for one moment. Just think, doctor, I have never seen my boy; I've seen other people's children, but never once my own, own darling. Oh, dear doctor—"
"You are exciting yourself. Listen to me: if you don't behave yourself now you may never see your child."
"Yes, yes, I will behave myself; I will be very good. Only don't shut me up in darkness again until I see my boy. Greta, bring him to me. Listen, I hear his breathing. Go for my darling! The kind doctor won't be angry with you. Tell him that if I see my child it will cure me. I know it will."
Greta's eyes were swimming in tears.
"Rest quiet, Mercy. Everything may be lost if you disturb yourself now, my dear."