Crazy Radio eBooks

And,
presently, a hand--a firm powerful hand, that picked up and supported a
heavy limp wrist--Rose Stanton's wrist--and two sensitive finger-tips
that rested lightly on the upper surface of it. After that, an even
measured voice--a voice of authority, whose words no doubt made sense,
only Rose was too tired to think what the sense was:
"She's out of the ether now, practically. That's a splendid pulse.
She's doing the best thing she can, sleeping like that. It's been a
thoroughly normal delivery from the beginning. Oh, a long difficult one,
I'll admit. But there's nothing now, that you could want better than
what you've got."
And then another voice, utterly unlike Rodney's and yet unmistakably
his--a ragged voice that tried to talk in a whisper but couldn't manage
it; broke queerly.
"That's all right," it said. "But I'll find it easier to believe
when ..."
She must see him--must know what it meant that he should talk like that.
With a strong physical effort, she opened her eyes and tried to speak
his name.


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