The man’s hand, palm outward, dropped wearily, eloquently. That was all.
“But tell me,” the girl’s chair came closer, so that she might have touched him, “you went to see the doctor?”
“Yes.”
“And he––?”
Again the silent, hopeless gesture, more fear-inspiring than words.
“Don’t keep me in suspense, please.” A small hand was on the man’s knee, now, frankly unashamed. “Tell me what he said.”
For an instant there was silence, then Babcock shrugged awkwardly, in an effort at nonchalance.
“He said I was––was––” in spite of himself, the speaker paused to moisten his lips––“a dead man.”
“Steve!”