You mustn’t feel so; you mustn’t! God is kind and good and merciful. He will forgive you. Ask Him to! THE GIRL. I did ask Him to—lots o’ times. It don’ do no good. I ain’t sorry! Everybody says you gotta feel sorry, an’ I ain’t. A girl kid’s better dead, I tell ye! That’s why I done it. I loved it, ’fore it came, ’cause it was his’n. After I done it nothin’ mattered—nothin’! So I— And I gotta die soon. What’s gona happen? [_During the preceding the sound of a tambourine and singing has been heard outside. As THE GIRL cries out the last words THE LADY, finding no answer, goes to the window. She has a sudden thought._] THE LADY. I’ll be back in a moment! [_She goes out._] [_Nothing is heard but THE GIRL’S sobs for a moment. Then THE LADY ushers in a SALVATION ARMY LASSIE, her tambourine held tightly, but jingling a little. She stands embarrassed by the foot of the bed. THE GIRL stares at her._] THE GIRL. I know them kind, too. THE LASSIE. Can’t I do something for you? THE GIRL. No—not now. You’re a good sort enough—but—I ain’t sorry— I tell ye—I ain’t, I ain’t! THE LASSIE. [_To LADY._] What d’ye want me for? What’ll I do? THE LADY. Couldn’t you sing something brave and cheerful? You were singing so nicely out there. THE LASSIE. [_To GIRL._] Shall I? THE GIRL. No, they won’t let ye. It ’u’d make a noise. THE LADY. Sing it low. THE LASSIE. [_In a sing-song voice, swaying, half chanting, half speaking._] Shall we gather at the river—the beautiful, the beautiful river, etc. THE GIRL. [_After trying to listen for a stanza or two._] Oh, cut it out! I don’t want ye to sing to me. I want ye to tell me what’s gona happen. Oh, don’ nobody know? I’m so ’fraid—so ’fraid! [_As her voice rises the nurse, who has, unobserved, looked in during the singing, enters with THE DOCTOR. He bows slightly to THE LADY and THE LASSIE, then goes quickly to THE GIRL, putting his hand on her forehead._] THE DOCTOR. Why, child, what troubles you? THE GIRL. [_Clinging to his hand._] Doctor! Everybody says I got to be sorry to get in. I ain’t sorry, an’ I’m ’fraid, I’m ’fraid. THE DOCTOR. To get in where? THE GIRL. Heaven, where you’ll be happy. THE DOCTOR. That is very interesting. How do you suppose they found that out? How do they know, I mean? THE LADY. Doctor, I didn’t tell her that. THE DOCTOR. Didn’t you? She seems strangely excited. [_He seats himself by the bed._] Come, child, let’s talk about it. [_He motions to the nurse that she is not needed. She goes out. THE SALVATION ARMY LASSIE makes an awkward little bow and gets herself out. THE LADY stands at the foot of the bed listening for a few moments, then slips quietly out._] THE DOCTOR. Now, tell me what is on your mind. But try and stop crying and speak plainly, for I want to understand what you say. THE GIRL. I’m gona die, ain’t I? THE DOCTOR. Yes. THE GIRL. When? THE DOCTOR. I don’t know.