"How about the skull fracture?" asked the doctor in a low voice, as the
nurse was passing out.
"He is dead," said the nurse.
"When?" asked the doctor.
"Just now. I just left him."
"There was no chance," said the doctor.
The nurse was about to pass on when the doctor detained her.
"That tall man," he said, "who was with him: where has he gone?"
The nurse looked at the doctor in surprise.
"There was no one with him but me," she said.
"Oh, yes," said the doctor. "I saw a man bending over the bed--a very
tall man with a remarkable face. I wondered who he could be."
The nurse turned, and with the doctor looked over toward the bed where
the body of James Neal lay.
"That is strange," said the nurse.
"I saw him there," said the doctor, "just as you were leaving the
patient; now he is gone."
"Queer! I saw no one," said the nurse, and moved away to attend to other
duties.
The doctor walked over to the bed where the body of the little clerk
lay.
"It _is_ strange," he mused. "I surely saw him.--The most beautiful face
I ever saw."
Then he looked down at what had been James Neal.
"He was very fortunate," said the doctor in a low tone, "to die with a
face like that looking into his."
There was a smile on the death-white lips of the little clerk.
Pages:
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495