Porter's finger touched the knob, and gave the round head on the
pillow a rapid push.
William Bannister sat up with a grunt, rubbed his eyes, and, seeing
strangers, began to cry.
It was so obvious to Mrs. Porter and her companion, both from the
evidence of their guilty consciences and the look of respectful
reproach on Mamie's face, that the sound of their voices had disturbed
the child, that they were routed from the start.
"Oh, dear me! He is awake," said the lady doctor.
"I am afraid we did not lower our voices," added Mrs. Porter. "And yet
William is usually such a sound sleeper. Perhaps we had better----"
"Just so," said the doctor.
"----go downstairs while the nurse gets him off to sleep again."
"Quite."
The door closed behind them.
* * * * *
"Oh, Steve!" said Mamie.
The White Hope had gone to sleep again with the amazing speed of
childhood, and Mamie was looking pityingly at the bedraggled object
which had emerged cautiously from behind the waterproof.
"I got mine," muttered Steve ruefully. "You ain't got a towel anywhere,
have you, Mame?"
Mamie produced a towel and watched him apologetically as he attempted
to dry himself.
"I'm so sorry, Steve."
"Cut it out. It was my fault. I oughtn't to have been there. Say, it
was a bit of luck the kid waking just then.
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