eleven. Doctors and nurses came and went from the room. Then a great quiet seemed to settle down around her. A half hour passed. A doctor went into the room, and presently came out again. She intercepted him as he came along the corridor.
He shook his head.
She did not understand his technical explanation. There was something about a clot and blood stoppage. But as she resumed her seat, she understood very fully that the end was near. The woman was resting quietly now, the doctor had said, but if she, Rhoda Gray, cared to wait, she could see the other before leaving the hospital.
And so she waited. She had promised Gypsy Nan she would.
The minutes dragged along. A quarter of an hour passed. Still another. Midnight came. Fifteen minutes more went by, and then a nurse came out of the room, and, standing by the door, beckoned to Rhoda Gray.
"She is asking for you," the nurse said. "Please do not stay more than a few minutes. I shall be outside here, and if you notice the slightest change, call me instantly."
Rhoda Gray nodded.
"I understand," she said.
The door closed softly behind her. She was smiling cheerily as she crossed the room and bent over Gypsy Nan.
The woman stretched out her hand.
"The White Moll!" she whispered. "He told the truth, that bull did—straight as they make 'em, and"
"Don't try to talk," Rhoda Gray interrupted gently. "Wait until you are a little stronger."
