or
the place was dark as midnight. By the time he had climbed four flights
he was wondering what in thunder Wittemore came to places like this for?
Just to major in sociology? Didn't the nut know that he would never make
a success in a thing like that? What was he doing it for, anyway? Did he
expect to teach it? Poor fellow, he would never get a job! His looks
were against him.

He knocked, with no result, at several doors for his old woman, but at
last a feeble voice answered: "Come in," and he entered a room entirely
dark. There didn't even appear to be a window, though he afterward
discovered one opening into an air-shaft. He stood hesitating within the
room, blinking and trying to see what was about him.

"Be that you, Mr. Widymer?" asked a feeble voice from the opposite
corner.

"Wittemore couldn't come. He had a telegram that his mother is dying and
he had to get the train. He sent me with the medicine."

"Oh, now ain't that too bad!" said the voice. "His mother dyin'! An' to
think he should remember me an' my medicine! Well, now, what d' ye think
o' that?"

"If you'll tell me where your gas is located I'll make a light for you,"
said Courtland, politely.

"Gas!" The old lady laughed aloud. "You won't find no such thing as gas
around this part o' town. There's about an inch of candle up on that
shelf. The distric' nurse left it there. I was thinkin' mebbe I'd get
Mr. Widymer to light it fer me when he come, an' then the night
wouldn't seem so long. It's awful, when you're sufferin' to have the
nights long."

He groped till he found the shelf and lit the candle. By degrees the
flickering light revealed to him a small bare room with no furniture
except a bed, a chair, a small stove, and a table. A box in the corner
apparently contained a few worn garments. Some dishes and provisions
were huddled on the table. The walls and floor were bare. The district
nurse had done her level best to clear up, perhaps, but there had been
no attempt at good cheer. A desolate place indeed to spend a weary night
of suffering, even with an inch of candle sending weird flickerings
across the dusky ceiling.

His impulse was to flee, but somehow he couldn't. "Here's this
medicine," he said. "Where do you want me to put it?"

The woman motioned with a bony hand toward the table. "There's a cup and
spoon over there somewhere," she said, weakly. "If you could go get me a
pitcher of water and set it here on a chair I could manage