He refused. The mother took them to a little house in one of the suburbs
and the father remained at home to nurse the invalid. There she lay!
The house was disinfected with sulphur which turned the gilded picture
frames black and tarnished the silver on the dressing-table. He walked
through the empty rooms in silent anguish, and at night, alone in his
big bed, he felt like a widower. He bought toys for the little girl,
and she smiled at him as he sat on the edge of the bed trying to amuse
her with a Punch and Judy show, and asked after mama and her little
brothers. And the father had to go and stand in the street before the
house in the suburbs, and nod to his wife who was looking at him from
the window, and blow kisses to the children. And his wife signalled to
him with sheets of blue and red paper.
But a day came when the little girl took no more pleasure in Punch and
Judy, and ceased smiling; and ceased talking too, for Death had
stretched out his long bony arm and suffocated her. It had been a hard
struggle.
Then the mother returned, full of remorse because she had deserted her
little daughter. There was great misery in the home, and great
wretchedness. When the doctor wanted to make a post mortem examination,
the father objected.
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