and with only one person to do everything, and that person mostly in
the cellar, is quite another. Jane was very sad and lonely, and to
add to her troubles the delirium-tremens case down the hall began to
sing "Oh Promise Me" in a falsetto voice and kept it up for hours.

At three Jane got up and bathed her eyes. She also did her hair,
and thus fortified she started out to find the red-haired person.
She intended to say that she was paying sixty-five dollars a week
and belonged to a leading family, and that she didn't mean to
endure for a moment the treatment she was getting, and being
called a neurasthenic and made to cook for the other patients.

She went slowly along the hall. The convalescent typhoid heard her
and called.

"Hey, doc!" he cried. "Hey, doc! Great Scott, man, when do I get
some dinner?"

Jane quickened her steps and made for the pantry. From somewhere
beyond, the delirium-tremens case was singing happily:

_I--love you o--own--ly,
I love--but--you._

Jane shivered a little. The person in whom she had been interested
and who had caused her precipitate retirement, if not to a nunnery,
to what answered the same purpose, had been very fond of that song.
He used to sing it, leaning over the piano and looking into her
eyes.