A pretty thing, isn't it ?" said the landlady.
Near the foot of the bed was a dent in the crimson quilt, and out of it Doss' small head and bright eyes looked knowingly.
Then Gregory looked up at what lay on the cushion.

A little white, white face, transparent as an angel's with a cloth bound round the forehead, and with soft hair tossed about on the pillow.
"We had to cut it off," said the woman, touching it with her forefinger.
"Soft as silk, like a wax doll's." But Gregory's heart was bleeding.
"Never get up again, the doctor says," said the landlady.
Gregory uttered one word.

In an instant the beautiful eyes opened widely, looked round the room and into the dark corners.
"Who is here?
Whom did I hear speak ?" Gregory had sunk back behind the curtain; the landlady drew it aside, and pulled him forward.
"Only this lady, ma'am--a nurse by profession.

She is willing to stay and take care of you, if you can come to terms with her." Lyndall raised herself on her elbow, and cast one keen scrutinizing glance over him.
"Have I never seen you before ?" she asked.
"No." She fell back wearily.
"Perhaps you would like to arrange the terms between yourselves," said the landlady.

"Here is a chair.