But he said that in a bland climate like
Southern California, in a bungalow without any stairs in it, if she's
carefully watched all the time to prevent excitement or over-exertion,
she might live a good many years.
"So that's what we're going to do. I've written the Fletchers to look
out a place for us--some quiet little place that won't cost too much,
and I've sold out my business. I thought I'd get that done before I
talked to you about it. I'll give the house here to the agent to sell or
rent, and as soon as we hear from the Fletchers, we'll begin to pack.
Within a week, I hope."
Rose said a queer thing then. She cried out incredulously, "And you and
mother are going away to California to live! And leave me here all
alone!"
"All alone with the whole of your own life," thought Portia, but didn't
say it.
"I can't realize it at all," Rose went on after a little silence. "It
doesn't seem--possible. Do you believe the specialist is right? They're
always making mistakes, aren't they--condemning people like that, when
the trouble isn't what they say? Can't we go to some one else and make
sure?"
"What's the use?" said Portia.
Pages:
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231