Suddenly the door opened, and Annie entered. She looked at him questioningly.
“Just the same,” he said calmly.
They whispered together a minute, then he went downstairs to get breakfast. It was twenty to eight. Soon Annie came down.
“Isn’t it awful! Doesn’t she look awful!” she whispered, dazed with horror.
He nodded.
“If she looks like that!” said Annie.
“Drink some tea,” he said.
They went upstairs again. Soon the neighbours came with their frightened question:
“How is she?”
It went on just the same. She lay with her cheek in her hand, her mouth fallen open, and the great, ghastly snores came and went.
At ten o’clock nurse came. She looked strange and woebegone.
“Nurse,” cried Paul, “she’ll last like this for days?”
“She can’t, Mr. Morel,” said nurse. “She can’t.”
There was
