The next day I called earlier than usual. I had spent an almost
sleepless night, wondering what I could do for this beautiful, lovable
woman, who seemed to be all alone in the world, and who evidently felt
that she must remain apart and desolate.
What had caused her to leave her husband? Or had he left her? What for?
What kind of a man was he? Did she love him, and was she breaking her
heart for him? or did he stand between her and some other love? Had she
married young, and made a mistake that was eating her life out? Whose
fault was it? How could I help her?
All these and a thousand other questions forced themselves upon me, and
none of the answers came to fit the case. Answers there were in plenty,
but they were not for these questions nor for this woman--not for this
delicate flower of her race.
As I stepped into the hotel office to send my card to "Parlor 13," as
was my custom, the clerk looked up with his perfunctory smile and said,
"Go' morning, doctor. Got so in the habit 'coming here lately, s'pose
it'll take quite a while to taper off. That about the size of it?"