"I came for the reason I have given you," he replied; and added, more gently: "I know it is a good deal to ask, but you will be doing a great kindness. The mother is distracted. The child, as I told you, will be taken to the hospital in the morning."
She reached out a hand and closed the piano softly.
"I guess I can hold off for to-night," she said. "Sometimes things get kind of dull—you know, when there's nothing doing, and this keeps me lively. How old is the kid?"
"About nine," he estimated.
"Say, I'm sorry." She spoke with a genuineness of feeling that surprised him. He went slowly, almost apologetically toward the door.
"Good night," he said, "and thank you."
Her look halted him.
"What's your hurry?" she demanded.
"I'm sorry," he said hastily, "but I must be going." He was, in truth, in a panic to leave.
"You're a minister, ain't you?"