sinthehousenow,andgreetedhimcheerfully.Pain,physicalandmental,hadmadehimstupid.Itwassometimebeforeherealizedthatshehadnevermissedthechild.
Ginowasstillout.Thewomantookhimtothereception-room,justasshehadtakenMissAbbottinthemorning,anddustedacircleforhimononeofthehorsehairchairs.Butitwasdarknow,soshelefttheguestalittlelamp.
“IwillbeasquickasIcan,”shetoldhim.“ButtherearemanystreetsinMonterianoheissometimesdifficulttofind.Icouldnotfindhimthismorning.”
“GofirsttotheCaffeGaribaldi,”saidPhilip,rememberingthatthiswasthehourappointedbyhisfriendsofyesterday.
Heoccupiedthetimehewasleftalonenotinthinking—therewasnothingtothinkabouthesimplyhadtotellafewfacts—butintryingtomakeaslingforhisbrokenarm.Thetroublewasintheelbow-joint,andaslongashekeptthismotionlesshecouldgoonasusual.Butinflammationwasbeginning,andtheslightestjargavehimagony.TheslingwasnotfittedbeforeGinoleaptupthestairs,crying—
“Soyouareback!HowgladIam!Weareallwaiting—”
Philiphadseentoomuchtobenervous.Inlow,eventoneshetoldwhathadhappenedandtheother,alsoperfectlycalm,heardhimtotheend.InthesilencePerfettacalledupthatshehadforgottenthebaby’seveningmilkshemustfetchit.WhenshehadgoneGinotookupthelampwithoutaword,andtheywentintotheotherroom.
“Mysisterisill,”saidPhilip,“andMissAbbottisguiltless.Ishouldbegladifyoudidnothavetotroublethem.”
Ginohadstoopeddownbytheway,andwasfeelingtheplacewherehissonhadlain.NowandthenhefrownedalittleandglancedatPhilip.
“Itisthroughme,”hecontinued.“IthappenedbecauseIwascowardlyandidle.Ihavecometoknowwhatyouwilldo.”
Ginohadlefttherug,andbegantopatthetablefromtheend,asifhewasblind.TheactionwassouncannythatPhilipwasdriventointervene.
“Gently,man,gentlyheisnothere.”
Hewentupandtouchedhimontheshoulder.
Hetwitchedaway,andbegantopasshishandsoverthingsmorerapidly—overthetable,t