It was a tribute to St. John's genius that in spite of her incoherent utterance he understood precisely what the woman was driving at.
"You say he's dying?" he said.
"Doctor's given up hope. He's had a relapse since this mornin', and she's got to come right now if she's to see him at all."
The senator hesitated for once.
"It's got nothin' to do with the proprieties," said Mrs. Brackett, sternly, "nor what he was to her, nor her to him; it's a plain case of humanity and—"
"What is the nature of the sickness?" asked the senator.
"It's fever—"
"Is it contagious?" asked the senator.
"No, it ain't!" almost shrieked the old lady. "And what if it was?"
"Of course if it were contagious she couldn't go," said the senator.
"It ain't contagious, and, what's more, he once laid down his life for her on the log, that time."
