FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   96   97   98   99   100   101   102   103   104   105   106   107   108   109   110   111   112   113   114   115   116   117   118   119   >>  
wing that you've done what you could toward it." "Oh, my God, don't, Pennington!" cried out Francis, clutching Marjorie tighter unconsciously. "It's as true as gospel. But let up now. Get somebody. Do something, for heaven's sake! You know about medicine a little, don't you?" "Take her inside and put her to bed," Pennington commanded shortly. "I'll take your motor-cycle and go for Mother O'Mara. I can get a doctor from there by to-morrow, perhaps." Francis gathered the limp little body up again without a word. Only he turned at the door for a last appeal. "Can't you tell at all what it is?" "Fever, I think. She's caught malarial fever, perhaps. She wouldn't have done if she'd been stronger. Take her in." So Francis carried his wife over the threshold, into the little brown room he had decked for her so long ago, and laid her down again. Her head fell back on the pillow, and her hands lay as he dropped them. He stood back and looked at her, a double terror in his heart. She would never love him again. How could she? And she would die--surely she would die, and he had killed her. "I'm--going," she said very faintly, as a sleep-talker speaks. She was not conscious of what she said, but it was the last straw for Francis. He had not slept nor eaten lately, and he had worked double time all day to keep his mind from the state of things, ever since he had brought her back. So perhaps it was not altogether inexcusable that he flung himself on the floor by the bedside and broke down. He was aroused after awhile by the touch of Marjorie's hand. He lifted his head, thinking she had come to and touched him knowingly. But he saw that it was only that she was tossing a little, with the restlessness of the fever, and his heart went down again. He pulled himself up from the bedside, and went doggedly at his work of undressing her and putting her to bed. She was as easy to handle as a child; and once or twice, when he had to lift or turn her in the process of undressing, he could feel how light she was, and that she was thinner. She had always been a little thing, but the long weeks of work had made her almost too thin--not too thin for her own tastes, because, like all the rest of the women of the present, she liked it; but thin enough to give Francis a fresh pang of remorse. He felt like a slave-driver. When he had finished his task, he stood back, and wondered if there was anything else he
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   96   97   98   99   100   101   102   103   104   105   106   107   108   109   110   111   112   113   114   115   116   117   118   119   >>  



Top keywords:
Francis
 

bedside

 

undressing

 

double

 

Pennington

 
Marjorie
 
lifted
 

thinking

 
aroused
 

awhile


touched

 

pulled

 
doggedly
 

restlessness

 
tossing
 

knowingly

 
things
 
worked
 

brought

 

altogether


inexcusable

 

putting

 

present

 

tastes

 

remorse

 

wondered

 

finished

 

driver

 

conscious

 

handle


process

 
thinner
 

speaks

 

caught

 

malarial

 
inside
 

appeal

 
wouldn
 

carried

 
stronger

medicine
 

commanded

 
morrow
 
Mother
 

doctor

 

gathered

 
turned
 

shortly

 
threshold
 

looked