"It wasn't Barker's fault," she said quickly. "There seemed to be no danger. Gordon said so himself. But one of you go, immediately, for the doctor."
"I'll go," Santry responded and hurried from the room, followed by Barker, thoroughly wretched.
Dorothy went to the bedside and looked down into Wade's white face; then she knelt there on the floor and said a little prayer to the God of all men to be merciful to hers.
"Maybe if I made you a cup of tea?" Mrs. Purnell anxiously suggested, but the girl shook her head listlessly. Tea was the elder woman's panacea for all ills.
"Don't bother me, mother, please. I—I've just been through a good deal. I can't talk—really, I can't."
Mrs. Purnell, subsiding at last, thereafter held her peace, and Dorothy sat down by the bed to be instantly ready to do anything that could be done. She had sat thus, almost without stirring, for nearly an hour, when Wade moved slightly and opened his eyes.
"What is it?" She bent over him instantly, forgetting everything except that he was awake and that he seemed to know her.
"Is it you, Dorothy?" He groped weakly for her fingers.
"Yes, dear," she answered, gulping back the sob in her throat. "Is there anything you want? What can I do for you?"