“Will it hurt me much?” the girl asked, weakly.
And then suddenly, before there was time for an answer, she turned white, and clutched Thyrsis’ hand with a low cry.
“What’s the matter?” he whispered.
Her fingers closed upon his convulsively, and she started up, crying aloud.
The doctor was standing by the window, opening a case of instruments. He did not even turn.
“Doctor!” Thyrsis cried, in alarm.
He put the case down and came toward the bed. “I guess there is nothing wrong,” he said, with a slight smile. He laid his hand upon the shuddering girl.
“It is all right,” he said, “I shall examine her in a few moments.”
He turned away, while Thyrsis and the young nurse held Corydon’s hand and whispered to her soothingly.
She sank back and lay tossing from side to side, moaning; and me
