"Come, vite, heem Docteur hawful seek. Me no
can stan' it no more! You so good in de las' night, mademoiselle, now
please come in, for de lofe of _le bon Dieu_!"
And then the strain that had been on the heart of my poor girl seemed to
give way, suddenly. The tension was released, like a powerful spring,
and the hardness went out of her face. She dropped my arm and dashed past
the man who sought her help, and entered the place, where I followed as
fast as my leg would let me.
First she looked towards the child, which I suppose she expected to see
under a sheet that would have just revealed the stark little form, but
the little thing was smiling at her, weakly.
"_Je vous aime bien_" he said.
Then her eyes filled with tears, and she turned towards the man who, with
a gesture of his hand, had swept her from his path. He had arisen on her
entrance, and leaned hard on the back of the chair. To my surprise he
spoke quite composedly, and I realized I had made an awful mistake.
"This is all wrong, Miss Jelliffe," he said. "I tried to prevent Yves
from calling you. The child has diphtheria and you must leave at once."
The man's voice was frightfully hoarse, and he unconsciously put his hand
up to his throat. She looked at him without answering. Then she went up
to the little table and picked up a small vial she had noticed.
"Antitoxine, seven thousand units," she read. Then she took up a small
glass syringe armed with a bright steel needle, and stared at it.
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