"I've come to stay
'til it's over."
But Isaac barred the way.
"You can't come in, I tell you! I've cleared the decks for action. Not
another person but the doctor and nurse are going to pass over this
threshold!"
"Look here, Ike Lavinski," cried Nance, indignantly, "you know as well as
me that there are things that ought to be done up there at the
Snawdors'!"
"They'll have to go undone," said Isaac, firmly.
Nance wasted no more time in futile argument. She waited for an opportune
moment when Ike's back was turned; then she slipped around the corner of
the house and threaded her way down the dark passage, until she reached
the fire-escape. There were no lights in the windows as she climbed past
them, and the place seemed ominously still.
At the third platform she scrambled over a wash-tub and a dozen plaster
casts of Pocahontas,--Mr. Snawdor's latest venture in industry,--and
crawled through the window into the kitchen. It was evident at a glance
that Mrs. Snawdor had at last found that long-talked-of day off and had
utilized it in cleaning up. The room didn't look natural in its changed
condition. Neither did Mrs. Snawdor, sitting in the gloom in an
attitude of deep dejection. At sight of Nance at the window, she gave a
cry of relief.
"Thank the Lord, you've come!" she said. "Can you beat this? Havin' to
climb up the outside of yer own house like a fly! They've done sent Fidy
to the pest-house, an' scattered the other childern all over the
neighborhood, an' they got me fastened up here, like a hen in a coop!"
"How is he?" whispered Nance, glancing toward the inner room.
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