Последний лист

           ButJohnsyhesmote; andshelay,scarcelymoving,onherpaintedironbedstead,lookingthroughthesmallDutchwindow-panesattheblanksideofthenextbrickhouse. 

           OnemorningthebusydoctorinvitedSueintothehallwaywithashaggy,grayeyebrow. 

           "Shehasonechancein—letussay,ten,"hesaid,asheshookdownthemercuryinhisclinicalthermometer. "Andthatchanceisforhertowanttolive. Thiswaypeoplehaveoflining-uponthesideoftheundertakermakestheentirepharmacopeialooksilly. Yourlittleladyhasmadeuphermindthatshe’snotgoingtogetwell. Hassheanythingonhermind?" 

           "She—shewantedtopainttheBayofNaplessomeday,"saidSue. 

           "Paint? —bosh! Hassheanythingonhermindworththinkingabouttwice—aman,forinstance?" 

           "Aman? "saidSue,withajew’s-harptwanginhervoice. "Isamanworth—but,no,doctor;thereisnothingofthekind." 

           "Well,itistheweakness,then,"saidthedoctor. "Iwilldoallthatscience,sofarasitmayfilterthroughmyefforts,canaccomplish. ButwhenevermypatientbeginstocountthecarriagesinherfuneralprocessionIsubtract50percentfromthecurativepowerofmedicines. IfyouwillgethertoaskonequestionaboutthenewwinterstylesincloaksleevesIwillpromiseyouaone-infivechanceforher,insteadofoneinten." 

           AfterthedoctorhadgoneSuewentintotheworkroomandcriedaJapanesenapkintoapulp.