up, and see that she keeps it shut. I'm coming over to seal it
up."

Annie Squires meantime had hastened back to discuss these matters with
her patient in the hospital room. It only added more to the nervous
strain that already tormented Mary Gage.

"Annie, I'm scared!" she whispered. "Oh! if I could only take care of
myself. Tell me, Annie--I'll get well, won't I?"

"Sure thing, Kid--it's a cinch."

"Where is he?" Mary demanded after some hesitation.

"Who? Him?" Annie employed her usual fashion of indicating the
identity of Sim Gage.

"No, I mean Doctor Barnes."

"He'll be going down below pretty soon. He don't know anything more
than I do about what that fool stuff in the letter means."

"But say," she added after a time, "I been kind of looking around in
desks and places, you know--I have to red things up--and I run across
another thing, some more writing."

"You mustn't do these things, Annie! It may be private."

"Oh, no, it ain't. It's only some writing copied from a magazine, like
enough. It was on one of the desks in this house--just in there."

"Copied?--What is it?"

"I don't know. Poetry stuff--sounds mushy. I didn't know men would do
things like copying out poetry from magazines. Never heard of Mr.
Symonds--did you?"

"How can I tell, Annie?"

"I'll read it for you if you'll let me. It's dark, in here--I'll just
go outside the door and read it through the crack at you, so's the
light won't hurt you anyways."

And so, faintly, as from a detached intelligence, there came into Mary
Gage's darkened room, her darkened life, some words well-written,
ill-read, which it seemed to her she might have dreamed:

"As a perfume doth remain
In the folds where it hath lain,
So the thought of you, remaining
Deeply folded in my brain,
Will not leave me; all things leave me:
You remain.

"Other thoughts may come and go,
Other moments I may know
That shall waft me, in their going,
As a breath blown to and fro.
Fragrant memories; fragrant memories
Come and go.

"Only thoughts of you remain
In my heart where they have lain,
Perfumed thoughts of you, remaining,
A hid sweetness, in my brain.
Others leave me; all things leave me:
You remain."

"Read them over again!" said Mary Gage, sitting upon her couch. "Read
them again, Annie! I want to learn it all by heart."

And Annie, patient as ever, read the words over to her. The keen
senses of Mar