IN the surgical ward of the Hope Hospital at Hanaford, a nurse was bending over a young man whose bandaged right hand and arm lay stretched along the bed. His head stirred uneasily, and slipping her arm behind him she effected a professional readjustment of the pillows. "Is that better?" As she leaned over, he lifted his anxious bewildered eyes, deep-sunk under ridges of suffering. "I don't s'pose there's any kind of a show for me, is there?" he asked, pointing with his free hand--the stained seamed hand of the mechanic--to the inert bundle on the quilt. Her only immediate answer was to wipe the dampness from his forehead; then she said: "We'll talk about that to-morrow."
IN the surgical ward of the Hope Hospital at Hanaford, a nurse was bending over a young man whose bandaged right hand and arm lay stretched along the bed.
His head stirred uneasily, and slipping her arm behind him she effected a professional readjustment of the pillows. "Is that better?"
As she leaned over, he lifted his anxious bewildered eyes, deep-sunk under ridges of suffering. "I don't s'pose there's any kind of a show for me, is there?" he asked, pointing with his free hand--the stained seamed hand of the mechanic--to the inert bundle on the quilt.
Her only immediate answer was to wipe the dampness from his forehead; then she said: "We'll talk about that to-morrow."
"Why not now?"
"Because Dr. Disbrow can't tell till the inflammation goes down."
"Will it go down by to-morrow?"
"It will begin to, if you don't excite yourself and keep up the fever."
"Excite myself? I--there's four of 'em at home----"
"Well, then there are four reasons for keeping quiet," she rejoined.
She did not use, in speaking, the soothing inflection of her trade: she seemed to disdain to cajole or trick the sufferer. Her full young voice kept its cool note of authority, her sympathy revealing itself only in the expert touch of her hands and the constant vigilance of her dark steady eyes. This vigilance softened to pity as the patient turned his head away with a groan. His free left hand continued to travel the sheet, clasping and unclasping itself in contortions of feverish unrest. It was as though all the anguish of his mutilation found expression in that lonely hand, left without work in the world now that its mate was useless.
The nurse felt a touch on her shoulder, and rose to face the matron, a sharp-featured woman with a soft intonation.
"This is Mr. Amherst, Miss Brent. The assistant manager from the mills. He wishes to see Dillon."
John Amherst's step was singularly noiseless. The nurse, sensitive by nature and training to all physical characteristics, was struck at once by the contrast between his alert face and figure and the silent way in which he moved. She noticed, too, that the same contrast was repeated in the face itself, its spare energetic outline, with the high nose and compressed lips of the mover of men, being curiously modified by the veiled inward gaze of the grey eyes he turned on her. It was one of the interests of Justine Brent's crowded yet lonely life to attempt a rapid mental classification of the persons she met; but the contradictions in Amherst's face baffled her, and she murmured inwardly "I don't know" as she drew aside to let him approach the bed. He stood by her in silence, his hands clasped behind him, his eyes on the injured man, who lay motionless, as if sunk in a lethargy. The matron, at the call of another nurse, had minced away down the ward, committing Amherst with a glance to Miss Brent; and the two remained alone by the bed.
After a pause, Amherst moved toward the window beyond the empty cot adjoining Dillon's. One of the white screens used to isolate dying patients had been placed against this cot, which was the last at that end of the ward, and the space beyond formed a secluded corner, where a few words could be exchanged out of reach of the eyes in the other beds.
"Is he asleep?" Amherst asked, as Miss Brent joined him.
Miss Brent glanced at him again. His voice betokened not merely education, but something different and deeper--the familiar habit of gentle speech; and his shabby clothes--carefully brushed, but ill-cut and worn along the seams--sat on him easily, and with the same difference.
"The morphine has made him drowsy," she answered. "The wounds were dressed about an hour ago, and the doctor gave him a hypodermic."
"The wounds--how many are there?"
"Besides the hand, his arm is badly torn up to the elbow."
Amherst listened with bent head and frowning brow.
"What do you think of the case?"
She hesitated. "Dr. Disbrow hasn't said----"
"And it's not your business to?" He smiled slightly. "I know hospital etiquette. But I have a particular reason for asking." He broke off and looked at her again, his veiled gaze sharpening to a glance of concentrated attention. "You're not one of the regular nurses, are you? Your dress seems to be of a different colour."
She smiled at the "seems to be," which denoted a tardy and imperfect apprehension of the difference between dark-blue linen and white.
"No: I happened to be staying at Hanaford, and hearing that they were in want of a surgical nurse, I offered my help."
Amherst nodded. "So much the better. Is there any place where I can say two words to you?"
"I could hardly leave the ward now, unless Mrs. Ogan comes back."
"I don't care to have you call Mrs. Ogan," he interposed quickly. "When do you go off duty?"
She looked at him in surprise. "If what you want to ask about is--anything connected with the management of things here--you know we're not supposed to talk of our patients outside of the hospital."
"I know. But I am going to ask you to break through the rule--in that poor fellow's behalf."
A protest wavered on her lip, but he held her eyes steadily, with a glint of good-humour behind his determination. "When do you go off duty?"
"At six."
"I'll wait at the corner of South Street and walk a little way with you. Let me put my case, and if you're not convinced you can refuse to answer."
"Very well," she said, without farther hesitation; and Amherst, with a slight nod of farewell, passed through the door near which they had been standing.
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The Hermit and the Wild Woman and Other Stories by Edith Wharton
Summer, also set in rural New England, is often considered a companion to Ethan Frome -Wharton herself called it \u201cthe hot Ethan\u201d-in its portrayal of a young woman's sexual and social awakening. Bunner Sisters takes place in the narrow, dusty streets of late nineteenth-century New York City, where the constrained but peaceful lives of two spinster shopkeepers are shattered when they meet a man who becomes the unworthy focus of all their pent-up hopes. ?? All three of these novellas feature realistic and haunting characters as vivid as any Wharton ever conjured, and together they provide a superb introduction to the shorter fiction of one of our greatest writers.
Edith Wharton was one of the most famous American authors of the early 20th century. Wharton's writings were known for their witty presentation on upper class society in America. This edition of The Hermit and the Wild Woman, and Other Stories includes a table of contents.
Lucille was one of the most skilled female assassins, and on the previous night, she embarked on a top-secret mission. However, the mission's details were leaked, leading to her untimely demise at the hands of a traitorous companion. She never discovered the identity of the person who betrayed her b
Two months. Claire only asked two more month from her ignorant husband to save her marriage from falling apart. She loved him too much to let him go. Hunter MacIntyre was reluctant that it would change anything between them. He could never bring himself to fall for Claire while his heart belonged t
When they met again, Jason cast aside his paranoia and pride, warmly embracing Chelsey. "Please, come back to me?" For three years, she had been his secretary by day and his companion by night. Chelsey had always complied with his requests, like an obedient pet. However, when Jason declared his plan
Kayley returned to Brayden's side for the sake of her dancing career. By day, they were step-siblings. By night, they were lovers. As her feelings deepened, she came to realize that she was a mere substitute for his lost love. They broke up. Kayley reinvented herself and became a beloved star. Seei
After a devastating divorce with the man she had been married to for over three years, Rachel thought her life was over. Her family disowned her, they wanted nothing to do with her anymore and she couldn't blame them. She had just divorced David Hart, one of the top successful bachelors in the cou
Once their little game ended, Dominic wrote Allison a check and moved on with the woman he had always loved. Allison accepted her fate and quietly left his world. But just as she was ready to commit to another man, Dominic barreled back into her life, all passion and fire. "I was your first lo
Chapter 1
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Chapter 2
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Chapter 3
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Chapter 4
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Chapter 5
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Chapter 6
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Chapter 7
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Chapter 8
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Chapter 9
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Chapter 10
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Chapter 11
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Chapter 12
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Chapter 13
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Chapter 14
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Chapter 15
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Chapter 16
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Chapter 17
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Chapter 18
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Chapter 19
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Chapter 20
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Chapter 21
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Chapter 22
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Chapter 23
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Chapter 24
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Chapter 25
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Chapter 26
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Chapter 27
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Chapter 28
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Chapter 29
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Chapter 30
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Chapter 31
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Chapter 32
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Chapter 33
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Chapter 34
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Chapter 35
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Chapter 36
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Chapter 37
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Chapter 38
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Chapter 39
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Chapter 40
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