He stopped, and in the silence, the Boss's breath rasped two or three times, in and out. Then he said, gratingly, "Do it."

He had taken the outside chance, the gambler's chance. But that was no surprise to me.

Adam was looking inquiringly at Lucy Stark, as though he wished corroboration from her. She turned her eyes from him and looked at her husband, who had walked over to the window to look out over the black lawn. For a moment, she studied the hunched shoulders, then returned to Adam Stanton. She nodded her head slowly, while her hands worked together on her lap. Then she whispered, "Yes–yes."

"We shall operate immediately," Adam said. "I had ordered arrangements made. It does not have to be done immediately, but in my judgment it is better so."

"Do it," the grating voice over the window said. But the Boss did not turn around, not even when the door closed behind Adam Stanton.

I went back to my picture magazines, but I turned the pages over with the greatest care as though I couldn't afford to make a sound in the special kind of devouring stillness there was in the room. The stillness lasted a long time, while I kept on looking at the pictures of girls in bathing suits and race horses and scenes of natural beauty and long files of erect, clean-faced youths in some kind of shirt or other lifting their arms in a salute and detective stories acted out in six photographs with the answer on the next page. But I wasn't paying much attention to the pictures, and they were always alike anyway.

Then Lucy Stark got up from her chair. She walked over to the window, where the Boss stood and stared out. She laid her hand on his right arm. He drew away, without even looking at her. But she took him by the forearm and drew him, and after a momentary resistance he followed her. She led him back to the big chintz-covered chair. "Sit down, Willie," she said, very quietly, "sit down and rest."

He sank down into the chair. She turned away and went back to her own chair.

He was looking at her, not at the artificial logs now. Finally, he said, "He'll be all right."

"God grant it," she replied.

He was silent for two or three minutes, still looking at her. Then he said, violently, "He will, he's got to."

"God grant it," she said, and met his gaze until his eyes fell away from hers.

By that time I had had enough of sitting there. I got up and went out and down the hall to the nurse who was on the floor desk. "Any chance of getting some sandwiches and coffee brought up here for the Governor and his wife?" I asked.

She said she would get some brought up, and I told her just to have them brought to her desk, that I would take them in. Then I wandered down to the lobby again. Sadie was still there, spooking in the shadows. I told her about the operation and left her there. I hung around at the floor desk upstairs until the sandwiches arrived, then took the tray down to the waiting room.

The grub and coffee, however, didn't do much to change the atmosphere there. I put a little table by Lucy with a sandwich on a plate and a cup of coffee. She thanked me, and broke a piece of the sandwich and put it to her mouth two or three times, but I could not see that she was doing it much damage. But she took some coffee. I put some food and coffee handy to the Boss. He looked up out of himself and said, "Thanks, Jack." He did not even make a pretense, however, of eating. He held the cup in his hand for a few minutes, but I didn't notice that he even took a sip. He just held it.

 I ate a sandwich and had a cup of coffee. I was pouring myself a second cup, when the Boss reached to set his cup down, sloshingly, on the little table beside him.

"Lucy," he said, "Lucy!"

"Yes," she answered.

"You know–you know what I'm going to do?" He leaned forward, not waiting for an answer. "I'm going to name the new hospital for him. For Tom. I'm going to call it the Tom Stark Hospital and Medical Center. It'll be named for Tom, it'll–"

She was slowly shaking her head, and his words stopped "Thos things don't matter," she said. "Oh, Willie, don't you see? Those things don't matter. Having somebody's name cut on a piece of stone. Getting it in the paper. All those things. Oh, Willie, he was my baby boy, he was our baby boy, and those things don't matter, they don't ever matter, don't you see?"

He sank back into his chair, and the silence picked up where it had left off. The silence was still going full blast when I got back from taking the dishes and uneaten food down to the desk. It gave me an excuse for getting out. It was twenty minutes to six when I got back At six o'clock Adam came in. He was pretty gray and stony in the face. The Boss got to his feet and stood there looking at Adam, but neither he not Lucy uttered a sound.

Then Adam said, "He will live."

"Thank God," Lucy breathed, but the Boss still stared into Adam's face.

Adam stared back. Then he said, "The cord was crushed."

I heard a gasp from Lucy, and looked over to see her with her head bowed on her breast.

The Boss didn't show a sign for a moment. Then he lifted his hands, chest-high, with the fingers spread as though to seize on something. "No!" he declared. "No!"

"It was crushed," Adam said. And added, "I am sorry, Governor."

Then he left the room.

The Boss stared at the closed door, then slowly sank back into the chair. He kept on staring at the door, his eyes bulging and the moisture gathering in drops on his forehead. The he jerked upright and the sound wrenched out of him. It was a formless, agonized sound torn raw right out of the black animal depths inside of the bulk there in the chair. "Oh!" he said. Then, "Oh!"

Lucy Stark was looking across at him. He was still staring at the door.

Then the sound came again: "Oh!"

She rose from her chair and went across to him. She didn't say anything. She simply stood by his chair and laid a hand on his shoulder.

The sound came again, but it was the last time. He sank back, still staring at the door, and breathed heavily. It must have been like that for three or four minutes. Then Lucy said, "Willie."

He looked up at her for the first time.

"Willie," she said, "it's time to go."

He stood up from the chair, and I got their coats off the couch by the wall. I helped Lucy on with hers, and then she picked up the other and helped him. I didn't interfere.

They started for the door. He had drawn himself erect now and looked straight ahead, but her hand was still on his arm, and if you had seen them you would have got the impression that she was expertly and tactfully guiding a blind man. I opened the door for them, and then went on ahead to tell Sugar-Boy to get the car ready.

I was there when the Boss got into the car and she got in after him. That surprised me a little, but it didn't hurt my feelings if Sugar-Boy drove her home. Despite the coffee, I was ready to drop.

I went back inside and up to Adam's office. He was just about ready to pull out. "What is the story?" I asked.

"What I said," he said. "The cord is crushed. That means paralysis. The prognosis is that for a time the limbs will be absolutely limp. Then the muscle tone will come back. But he will never use arms or legs. The bodily function will continue but without control. He'll be like a baby. And the skin will be inclined to break down. He will get infections easily. The respiratory control will be impaired, too. Pneumonia will be likely. That's what usually knock off cases like this sooner or later."

"It sounds to me the sooner the better," I said, and thought of Lucy Stark.

"Maybe so," he said, tiredly. He was sagging now, all right. He slipped on his coat and picked up his bag. "Can I drop you somewhere?" he asked.

"Thanks, I'm in my car," I said. Then my eyes fell on the telephone on his desk. "But I'll make a call, if I may," I said. "I'll pull the door to."