“Your father’s been asking for you. Dr. Adams said it would be all right for you to go in and see him but he must not be excited.”
He smiled as she entered the darkened room.
“I’m sorry I’ve caused you so much trouble,” he apologized as Mimi kissed him tenderly. As she bent over him she noticed for the first time how white his hair had become. His moustache and goatee, too, without their daily brushing and waxing, looked less magnificent than they had always seemed. Jean’s eyes were sunken, his face lined with the suffering he had been through. An ineffable pity filled her, she wished eagerly even as she knew it was futile that she could take his place.
“Do you remember that day in the St. Louis cemetery just before we came here?” Jean was asking.
“Do I remember it? I’ll never forget it,” she assured him.
“It seems a long, long time ago.”
A reminiscent, faraway look came