"Gloomy forebodings are
so silly, aren't they?"
"I--thought I should feel it," she said.
"I told you you wouldn't, didn't I? The nurse said you took an awful
time to go under--"
"Yes. I wanted to explain something. And I wanted to help the
surgeons--I thought I'd--do it--much better than they could."
"Just like you, old lady," he said, with his eyes wet.
"Silly to fight, Louis--strong things--wise things--like those
surgeons--even if they are making awful pains for you to bear--"
"I wouldn't talk, darling," he whispered anxiously, his face against
hers.
"I'm not talking, Louis--I'm thinking," she said anxiously. "Something I
was thinking--all mixed up with old Wullie, and a pathway. It seems to
me God is like those surgeons--only--strong and wise, you know--only He
never gives you chloroform, does He?"
She lost sight of Louis's face then for a very long time.
CHAPTER XXXI
Three months later they were aboard a P. and O. steamer, calling their
good-byes to Mrs. King and half a dozen of the boys, and Mr. and Mrs.
Twist who had come all the way from Loose End to see them off.
Marcella had stayed in hospital for two months; for another month she
had been struggling with inability to begin life again in a nursing home
overlooking the thunders of the Pacific. Louis had gone back to the
Homestead.
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