"You were kind to me the other day. I believe, if I had told you then, you
would still have been kind. I tried to tell you, but I was so terribly
afraid.
"If I caused death, I did not mean to. You will think that no excuse, but
it is true. In the hospital, when I changed the bottles on Miss Page's
medicine-tray, I did not care much what happened. But it was different
with you.
"You dismissed me, you remember. I had been careless about a sponge count.
I made up my mind to get back at you. It seemed hopeless--you were so
secure. For two or three days I tried to think of some way to hurt you. I
almost gave up. Then I found the way.
"You remember the packets of gauze sponges we made and used in the
operating-room? There were twelve to each package. When we counted them
as we got them out, we counted by packages. On the night before I left, I
went to the operating-room and added one sponge every here and there. Out
of every dozen packets, perhaps, I fixed one that had thirteen. The next
day I went away.
"Then I was terrified. What if somebody died? I had meant to give you
trouble, so you would have to do certain cases a second time. I swear that
was all. I was so frightened that I went down sick over it. When I got
better, I heard you had lost a case and the cause was being whispered
about. I almost died of terror.
"I tried to get back into the hospital one night. I went up the
fire-escape, but the windows were locked. Then I left the city. I couldn't
stand it. I was afraid to read a newspaper.
"I am not going to sign this letter. You know who it is from. And I am not
going to ask your forgiveness, or anything of that sort. I don't expect
it. But one thing hurt me more than anything else, the other night. You
said you'd lost your faith in yourself. This is to tell you that you need
not. And you said something else--that any one can 'come back.' I
wonder!"
K. stood in the hall of the little house with the letter in his hand. Just
beyond on the doorstep was Sidney, waiting for him. His arms were still
warm from the touch of her. Beyond lay the Street, and beyond that lay the
world and a man's work to do. Work, and faith to do it, a good woman's hand
in the dark, a Providence that made things right in the end.