"Operate on such a little scared thing——" She was shivering.
"You mustn't stay here," Justin insisted; "you'll get nervous, you know, and all that; you really mustn't stay—you weren't made to have your mind on such things."
"But Diana's mind is on them."
"Diana is—different."
That Diana was different was being demonstrated at that very moment in an upper room, where a little white slip of a girl had welcomed her with a wailing cry—"I'm afraid."
"My dear," Diana bent over the bed, "there's nothing to be afraid of, not with your doctor."
"But—if I should die."
"You're not going to die."
"But how do you know?"
"Because your good doctor has said so—and he knows——"