Then he and the impatient Isaac continued on their rounds, and Nance went
back to her work. But the casual remark, let fall by Dr. Adair, had set
her ambition soaring. Her imagination flared to the project. Snawdor's
flat extended itself into a long ward; poor little Mr. Snawdor, who was
hardly half a man, became a dozen; and Miss Molloy, in a becoming
uniform, moved in and out among the cots, a ministering angel of mercy.

For the first time since Dan Lewis's marriage, her old courage and zest
for life returned, and when Mrs. Snawdor came in at midnight, she found
her sitting beside her patient with shining eyes full of waking dreams.

"Mis' Smelts is awful bad," Mrs. Snawdor reported, looking more serious
than she had heretofore. "Says she wants to see you before the nurse
wakes up. Seems like she's got somethin' on her mind."

Nance hurried into her coat and went out into the dark, damp hall. Long
black roaches scurried out of her way as she descended the stairs. In the
hall below the single gas-jet flared in the draught, causing ghostly
shadows to leap out of corners and then skulk fearfully back again. Nance
was not afraid, but a sudden sick loathing filled her. Was she never
going to be able to get away from it all? Was that long arm of duty going
to stretch out and find her wherever she went, and drag her back to this
noisome spot? Were all her dreams and ambitions to die, as they had been
born, in Calvary Alley?

Mrs. Smelts had been moved into an empty room across the hall from her
own crowded quarters, and as Nance pushed open the door, she lifted a
warning hand and beckoned.

"Shut it," she said in a hoarse whisper. "I don't want nobody to hear