" Miss Child had gumption, and though
it was nearly time for the public to rush in (there was a bargain sale
that day) he gave her a permit of absence.
"Nothing worse than a headache, I hope, takes you to the H.R.?" he
questioned, scrawling his powerful name. "We need everybody to get
busy to-day."
"I'm going to beg for some _sal volatile_," answered Win, and
determined to do so, as even white fibs were horrid little things,
almost as horrid as cowardly, scuttling black beetles.
Poor Sadie had giggled the other night: "You stick even to the _truth_
this hot weather!"
The doctor had not gone, but he did not know of the new place Sadie
referred to, and, not knowing, didn't believe in its existence. He had
told Sadie Kirk yesterday that her lungs were infected and that she
had become "contagious." Of course she had had to be discharged. These
things were sad, but they were a part of the day's work. It was a pity
that Miss Kirk hadn't been longer with the Hands. Her insurance money
wouldn't amount to much.
"Do you mean to say that they've sent her away to die and haven't
given her anything?" Win gasped.
"Not to die, I hope," said young Dr.
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