"No, no, you sha'n't die, John. We'll help you to live!" his wife cried.
"Very well; if you keep on feeling that way you may live," said the doctor cheerfully. "We will hope for the best."
Kate's eyelids drooped as she stood watching this scene as in a dream. She took the woman by the hand as she left:
"I do hope he will live for your sake. I believe he will."
When they reached the street, the doctor said to her:
"Glad to welcome you, Miss Ransom, from the little world into the great one."
"Thank you. I begin to feel I have not been in the world at all before. Will he live, do you think?"
"If he holds that iron will with the grip he has on it now he'll pull through—and be a hopeless invalid for life. He will join the great army of industrial cripples—a havoc that makes war seem harmless. The wrecking corporation have already sent their lawyer and settled his case for eighty-five dollars cash: not enough to bury him. He thought it better than nothing."
The doctor hurried on to another patient.
It had grown quite dark. Gordon took Kate by the arm after the modern fashion, and they threaded their way through the crowds made denser by the return of the working people. She had removed her right glove in the house and did not replace it
