The fight went on. The nurse arrived, and turning to Ethel the doctor said, "Get him out of this." And she took Joe into the living-room. But there with a sudden curse and a groan he began to walk the floor. "This doctor--what do we know of him? He was all I could find! We haven't been to a doctor in years! . . . Ah--that's it!" And he went to the telephone, where in a few moments she heard him saying tensely, "Bill, old man, I'm in trouble." And she thought, "It's his partner." "What have you done?" she asked him. "Got Bill Nourse on the 'phone. He's bringing another doctor." "But Joe! You should have asked this one first!" "Should I?" was his distracted reply. The second physician soon arrived, and was as surprised and annoyed as the first one when he found how he had been summoned. In a moment with angry apologies he was backing out of the door. But Joe caught his arm. "You two and your etiquette be damned! Go in and look at that woman!" he cried. And with a glance into Joe's eyes, the second doctor turned to the first, muttered, "Hold this man. He's crazy "--and went into the bedroom. It was long before Ethel forgot the look that appeared on Joe's face when the second physician came out and said: "I'm sorry. There's nothing I can do." She went in with Joe to Amy. And her sister looked so relieved, the lines of pain all smoothed away. Heavily drugged, she was nearly asleep. Her hand felt for Joe's and closed on it, and with a little nestling movement of her soft lovely body she murmured smiling: "Oh, so tired and sleepy now." Again, in spite of her grief and fright, Ethel noticed how her sister's hand closed on that of her husband. In the months and years that followed, she recalled it vividly so many times. Joe sat there long after Amy was dead. The doctor signed to Ethel to come into the living-room. "Are you to be in charge?" he asked. She looked at him and shivered. She felt a pang of such loneliness as she had never known before. "I know nobody--nothing--I don't know how you arrange," she said. "I've only been a month in town." The doctor gave her a curious look of pity and uneasiness. It was as though he had told her, "I'm sorry, but don't count on me for help. I'm busy. This is New York, you know." He said: "I'll see to the undertaker." She shivered again, and he added, "Don't you know some older woman here?" This reminded her of the dinner which Amy was to have given that night. A lump rose in her throat. She waited a moment and then she said: "Yes, I know of several." "That's good. You'd better send for them." And soon afterward he hurried away. But just as Ethel was rising to go to the telephone, there was a ring at the door. She opened it, and a tall man, rather stooped, with iron grey hair and moustache, a lean but rather heavy face and deep-set impassive eyes, came in and said: "I'm Joe's partner--Nourse, you know. How is it going? Better?" "She's dead."