I've suspected what was the matter for several
months. They told me I was right."
"But the doctors are always making mistakes. I'd not give up
if I were you."
"Do you suppose I would if I had anything to live for?"
"I was thinking about that a while ago--while you were asleep."
"Oh, I'm all in. That's a cinch."
"So am I," said she. "And as we've nothing to lose and no hope,
why, trying to do something won't make us any worse off. . . .
We've both struck the bottom. We can't go any lower." She
leaned forward and, with her earnest eyes fixed upon him,
said, "Rod--why not try--together?"
He closed his eyes.
"I'm afraid I can't be of much use to you," she went on. "But
you can help me. And helping me will make you help yourself.
I can't get up alone. I've tried. No doubt it's my fault. I
guess I'm one of those women that aren't hard enough or
self-confident enough to do what's necessary unless I've got
some man to make me do it. Perhaps I'd get the--the strength
or whatever it is, when I was much older. But by that time in
my case--I guess it'd be too late. Won't you help me, Rod?"
He turned his head away, without opening his eyes.
"You've helped me many times--beginning with the first day we met."
"Don't," he said. "I went back on you. I did sprain my ankle,
but I could have come."
"That wasn't anything," replied she. "You had already done a
thousand times more than you needed to do.
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