"I hate them," and the little hand was pushed rudely off.
Wonderingly the soft, large eyes of the child looked up to his.
Something in their expression riveted the doctor's gaze as by a spell.
There were tears in the baby's eyes, and the pretty lip began to quiver at the harsh indignity.

The doctor's finer feelings, if he had any, were touched, and muttering to himself, "I'm a brute," he slouched his riding cap still lower down upon his forehead, and turning away to the window, relapsed into a gloomy reverie.
As they drew near to Albany, another piercing shriek from Willie arose even above the noise of the train.

The paroxysms of pain had returned with such severity that the poor infant's face became a livid purple, while Adah's tears dropped upon it like rain.

Again the sympathetic women gathered around, again Dr.Richards, aroused from his uneasy sleep, muttered invectives against children in general and this one in particular, while again Irving Stanley hastened to the rescue, his the ruling mind which overmastered the others, planning what should be done, and seeing that his plans were executed.
"You cannot go on this morning.

Your little boy must have rest and medical advice," he said to Adah, when at last the train stopped in Albany.