Even the abstract paintings on the wall were gray. She directed the orchestra to tune again. The afternoon was her own; but from eight until midnight she sat beside the patient. No one spoke to her. Briefly explained, she was as the child who discards the rag baby for the living one. She flew up from her stool and faced the door. While he was thus employed a farming man came into the barn. She looked at her for a moment fixedly. Anna saw it, and for the first time found herself trembling. "But don't ever let me see them again. He was unaware that his illness had opened the way to the inherent conscience and that the acquired had been temporarily blanketed, or that there was any ancient fanaticalism in his blood. The risk I run is nothing to yours. Mind you don't stir till supper's over. " "Entreat a fiddlestick!" retorted Mrs.
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