Crazy Radio eBooks

Don't you know how
it's always pleased her when old people could die--'in harness,' as she
says?"
Her voice softened a little as she concluded and the tenseness of her
attitude, there at the window, relaxed. The ordeal, or the worst of it,
was over; what she had meant to say was said, and what she had meant not
to say, if hinted at once or twice, had not caught Rose's ear. She
turned for the first time to look at her. Rose was drooping forlornly
forward, one arm clasped around her knees, and she was trying to dry her
tears on the sleeve of her nightgown. The childlike pathos of the
attitude caught Portia like the surge of a wave. She crossed the room
and sat down on the edge of the bed. She'd have come still closer and
taken the girl in her arms but for the fear of starting her crying
again.
"Yes," Rose said. "That's mother. And I guess she's right about it. It
must be horrible to be half alive;--to know you're no use and never will
be. Only I don't believe it will be that way with her.


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