Here's
some chicken broth I brought down. Ed sent it up to me from Sherry's."
But Hester poured it into the sink for some nameless reason, and brewed
some fresh from a fowl she tipped the hallboy a dollar to go out and
purchase.
She slept on a cot at the foot of his bed, so sensitive to his waking
that almost before he came up to consciousness she was at his side. All
day she wore the little white shirt waists, a starchy one fresh each
morning, and at night scratchy little unlacy nightgowns with long
sleeves and high yokes. He liked to run his hand along the crispness of
the fabric.
"I love you in cool stuff, Hester. You're so cool yourself, I always
think of you in the little white waist and blue skirt. You remember,
dear--Finleys' annual?"
"I--I'm going to dress like that for you always, Gerald."
"I won't let you be going back to work for long, sweetheart. I've some
plans up my sleeve, I have."
"Yes! Yes!"
But when the end did come, it was with as much of a shock as if she had
not been for days expecting it.
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