altered:

"Who asked that of me?"

"Mr. Drene."

"Mr. Drene is very ill, I hear."

"He is convalescent."

"Did he ask you to call me?"

"Certainly."

"Then--you are with him?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"In his apartment. I came downstairs to the janitor's rooms. I am
telephoning from there what he wished me to ask you."

After a pause Graylock said: "Is his mind perfectly clear?"

"Perfectly, now."

"He asked for me?"

"Yes. Will you come?"

"He asked for me? Tonight? At eleven o'clock?"

She said: "I don't think he knows even what month it is. He has only
been conscious for a day or two. Had he known it was Christmas night
perhaps he might not have disturbed you. But--will you come?"

"I am afraid it is too late--to-night."

"Tomorrow, then? Shall I tell him?"

There was a silence. She repeated the question. But Graylock's reply was
inaudible and she thought he said good-bye instead of good night.

Somewhere in the rear of the basement the janitor and his family and
probably all his relatives were celebrating. A fiddle squeaked in there;
there was a steady tumult of voices and laughter.

The girl stood a while listening, a slight smile on her lips. Blessed
happiness had come to her in time for Christmas--a strange and heavenly
happiness, more wonderful than when a life is spared to one who loves,
for it had been more than the mere life of this man she had asked of
God: it had been his mind.

He lay asleep when she entered and stood by the shaded lamp, looking
down at him.

After a while she seated herself and took up her sewing. But laid it
aside again as there came a low knocking at the door.

Drene opened his eyes as Graylock entered all alone and stood still
beside the bed looking down at him. In the studio Cecile moved about
singing under her breath. They both heard her.

Drene nodded weakly. After a moment he made the effort to speak:

"I am trying to get well--to start again--better--live more--nobly. ...
Take your chance, too."

"If you wish, Drene."

"Yes. I was not--very--well. I had been ill--very--a long while ...
And you are not to clean the automatic.... Only your own-soul.... Ask
help.... You'll get it..... I did.... And--all that is true--what
we believed--as boys.... I know. I've seen. And it's all true--all
true--what we believed--as little boys."

He looked up at Graylock, then closed his eyes with the shadow of a
smile in them.

"Good-bye--Jack," he whispered.