The Lady. Doctor, I didn’t tell her that.
The Doctor. Didn’t you? She seems strangely excited. (He seats himself by the bed.) Come child, let’s talk about it. (He motions—to the nurse that she is not needed. She goes out. The Salvation Army Lassie, makes an awkward little bow and gets herself out. The Lady stands at the foot of the bed listening for a few moments, then slips quietly out.)
The Doctor. Now, tell me what is on your mind, but try and stop crying and speak plainly, for I want to understand what you say.
The Girl. I’m gona die, aint I?
The Doctor. Yes.
The Girl. When?
The Doctor. I don’t know.
The Girl. Soon?
The Doctor. Yes.
The Girl. How soon? Tomorrow?