It was not a prayer so much as a cry
of defiance---a challenge.
"Look here, God!" and there was nothing profane as she said
it. "Look here, God! She's done her part. It's up to You
now. Don't You let her die! Look at her. Look at her!"
She choked and shook herself angrily, and went on. "Is that
fair? That's a rotten trick to play on a woman that gave
what she gave! What did she ever have of life? Nothing!
That little miserable, dirty store, and those little
miserable, dirty people. You give her a chance, d'You hear?
You give her a chance, God, or I'll----"
Her voice broke in a thin, cracked quaver. The nurse turned
her around, suddenly and sharply, and led her from the room.
CHAPTER EIGHT
"You can come down now. They're all here, I guess. Doctor
Thalmann's going to begin." Fanny, huddled in a chair in
her bedroom, looked up into the plump, kindly face of the
woman who was bending over her. Then she stood up,
docilely, and walked toward the stairs with a heavy,
stumbling step.
"I'd put down my veil if I were you," said the neighbor
woman.
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