Harriet, who had come home by that time, sat by the couch and held her
sister's hand. Only once in the next hour or so did she speak. They had
sent for Dr. Ed, but he had not come yet. Harriet was too wretched to
notice the professional manner in which K. set to work over Anna.
"I've been a very hard sister to her," she said. "If you can pull her
through, I'll try to make up for it."
Christine sat on the stairs outside, frightened and helpless. They had sent
for Sidney; but the little house had no telephone, and the message was slow
in getting off.
At six o'clock Dr. Ed came panting up the stairs and into the room. K.
stood back.
"Well, this is sad, Harriet," said Dr. Ed. "Why in the name of Heaven,
when I wasn't around, didn't you get another doctor. If she had had some
amyl-nitrate--"
"I gave her some nitrate of amyl," said K. quietly. "There was really no
time to send for anybody. She almost went under at half-past five."
Max had kept his word, and even Dr. Ed did not suspect K.'s secret. He
gave a quick glance at this tall young man who spoke so quietly of what he
had done for the sick woman, and went on with his work.
Sidney arrived a little after six, and from that moment the confusion in
the sick-room was at an end. She moved Christine from the stairs, where
Katie on her numerous errands must crawl over her; set Harriet to warming
her mother's bed and getting it ready; opened windows, brought order and
quiet. And then, with death in her eyes, she took up her position beside
her mother. This was no time for weeping; that would come later. Once she
turned to K., standing watchfully beside her.
"I think you have known this for a long time," she said. And, when he did
not answer: "Why did you let me stay away from her? It would have been such
a little time!"
"We were trying to do our best for both of you," he replied.
Anna was unconscious and sinking fast. One thought obsessed Sidney. She
repeated it over and over. It came as a cry from the depths of the girl's
new experience.
"She has had so little of life," she said, over and over. "So little!
Just this Street. She never knew anything else."
And finally K. took it up.
"After all, Sidney," he said, "the Street IS life: the world is only many
streets. She had a great deal. She had love and content, and she had
you."