d to do."

Over and over again the plaintive words pierced the air of the room
where Grace Draper lay, while Dr. Pettit and the nurse battled for her
life.

The theme of all her delirious cries and mutterings was Dicky. She
lived over again all the homely little humorous incidents of their
long studio association. She went with him upon the little outings
which they had taken together, and of which I learned for the first
time from her fever-crazed lips.

"Isn't this delicious salad, Dicky?" she would cry. "What a
magnificent view of the ocean you can get from here? Wouldn't Belasco
envy that moonlight effect?"

Then more tender memories would obsess her. To me, crouching in my
corner, bound by my promise to stay in the room, it seemed a most
cruel irony of fate that I should be compelled to listen to this
unfolding of my husband's faithlessness to me within so short a time
of our tender reconciliation.

I do not think Dr. Pettit knew I was in the room when he first entered
it, anxious because of his imperative summons by the nurse. Lillian's
guest room had the alcove characteristic of the old-fashioned New York
houses, and she and I were seated in that.

The physician bent over the bed, carefully studying the patient.
Through his professional mask I thought I saw a touch of bewilderment.
He studied the girl's pulse and temperature, listened to her
breathing, then turned to the nurse sharply.

"How long has she been delirious?"

"Since just after I called you," the girl replied.

"Did you notice anything unusual about her before that? You said
something over the telephone about her talking queerly."

The nurse looked quickly over to the alcove where Lillian and I
sat. Dr. Pettit's eyes followed her glance. With a quick muttered
exclamation he strode swiftly to where we sat and towered angrily
above us.

"What does this mean?" he asked imperatively. "Why are you here
listening to this stuff? It is abominable."

"I agree with you, Dr. Pettit. It is abominable, but she made
Madge promise to stay," Lillian said quietly. She made an almost
imperceptible gesture of her head toward the bed, and her voice was
full of meaning. He started, looked her steadily in the eyes, then
nodded slightly as if asserting some unspoken thought of hers.

"Dicky darling," the voice from the bed rose pleadingly, "don't you
remember how you promised me to take me away from all this, how we
planned to go far, far away, where no on