"Sudie, some day I hope to paint the Bay of Naples."

The doctor came in the afternoon, and Sue had an excuse
to go into the hallway as he left.
"Even chances," said the doctor, taking Sue's thin, shaking
hand in his. "With good nursing youTI win. And'iibw I
must see another case I have downstairs. Behrman, his
name is — some kind of an artist, I believe. Pneumonia, too.
He is an old, weak man, and the attack is acute. There is no






148 STORIES FROM O. HENRY

hope for him; but he goes to the hospital to-day to be made
more comfortable/*

The next day the doctor said to Sue : " She's out of danger.
You've won. Nutrition and care now — that's all."

And that afternoon Sue came Jto the bed where Johnsy lay,
contentedly knitting a veiy^ue^jand vety useless woolen
shoulder scarf, and put one arm around her, pillows and all.
I have something to tell you, white mouse," she said.
Mr. Behrman died of pneumonia to-day in the hospital.
He was ill only two days. The janitor found him on the
morning of the first day in his room downstairs helpless with
pain. His shoes and clothing were fyet through and icy cold.
