The child moaned, stirred, and opened his eyes, gazing at them feverishly, yet without seeming comprehension. She bent over him, calling his name.... Hodder thrust the fan into her hand, and rose.
“I am going to telephone Dr. Jarvis,” he said, “and then I shall come back, in order to be here when he arrives.”
She looked up at him.
“Oh, thank you, sir,—I guess it's for the best—”
Her voice died away, and the rector, seeking for the cause, saw that a man had entered the room. He walked up to the couch and stood for a moment staring moodily at the child, while the woman watched him, transfixed.
“Richard!” she said.
He paid no attention to her. She turned to Hodder. “This is my husband, sir.... Richard, I went into the church—just for a moment—I—I couldn't help it, and this gentleman—the minister—came home with me. He wanted to—he thought I was sick. And now he's going out to get the best doctor in the city for Dicky.”
The man turned suddenly and confronted the rector.
“Why don't you let him die, you and your church people?” he asked. “You've done your worst to kill him.”
The woman put her hand fearfully, imploringly on the man's arm.