Mrs. Tresslyn glanced idly through the pages of a magazine, while
Anne, taking up her position once more at the window, allowed her thoughts
to slip back into the inevitable groove. They were not centred upon
Templeton Thorpe as an object of pity but as a subject for speculation:
she was thinking of the thing that Braden was doing, and of his part in
this life and death affair. She was trying to picture him up there in that
glaring little room cutting the life out of a fellow creature under the
very eyes of the world.

The door was opened swiftly but softly. Simmy Dodge, white as a sheet,
came into the room.... Mrs. Tresslyn went over to the window, where Anne
was sitting, white and dry-eyed.

"It is no more than we expected, dear," said she quietly. "He had no
chance. You were prepared. It is all over. You ought to be thankful that
his sufferings are over. He--"

Anne was not listening. She broke in with a question to Simmy.

"What was it that you said happened while you were in the room? Before the
ether, I mean. Tell me again,--and slowly."

Simmy cleared his throat. It was very tight and dry. He was now afraid of
death.

"It was awfully affecting," he said, wiping the moisture from his brow.
"Awfully. That young interne fellow told me about it. Just before they
gave the ether, Mr. Thorpe shook hands with Brady. He was smiling. They
all heard him say 'Good-bye, my boy,--and thank you.' And Brady leaned over
and kissed him on the forehead. The chap couldn't quite hear, but says he
thinks he whispered, 'Good-bye, granddaddy.' Awfully affecting scene--"

"'Good-bye, granddaddy,'" Anne repeated, dully. Then she covered her eyes
with her hands.

Simmy fidgeted. He wanted to help, but felt oddly that he was very much
out of place. George's big hand gripped his arm. At any other time he
would have winced with pain, but now he had no thought for himself.
Moreover, there was something wonderfully sustaining in the powerful hand
that had been laid upon his.

"She ought not to take it so hard, George," he began.

"They told you he never came out of the anaesthetic," said George, in a
half-whisper. "Just died--like that?"

"That's what he said. Little chap with blond hair and nose-glasses. You
remember seeing him--Yes, he told me. He was in there. Saw it all. Gosh, I
don't see how they can do it. This fellow seemed to be very much upset, at
that. He looked scared. I say, George, do you know what the pylorus is?"

"