By John A. Smith
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Additional resources for Cumitech 23: Infections of the Skin and Subcutaneous Tissues
A Woman Named Smith was oppressed with a nameless terror, an anguished sense that something had happened, something irremediable. The feeling was so strong that my throat closed chokingly. I am particular in thus setting it down, because it was an experience that all of us under that roof had to undergo. You had to fight it, shut your mind against it, oppose your will to it like a stone wall, refuse to let it master you. Then, as if defeated, it would go as suddenly, as inexplicably, as it had come.
His wife had the worried face and the anxious eyes of the minister’s helpmeet, and the painfully ready smile for newcomers who might, or might not, prove desirable parishioners. She wanted to be nice to us as a Christian woman to women, but not too nice as the minister’s wife of a church whose members looked upon us as interlopers. I had deputed Judge Gatchell to inform the trustees that the suit was dropped. I suppose Mrs. Haile was timid about broaching the delicate subject, for she ignored it with a nervous intensity that made me feel sorry for her.
There had been a great space cleared in our garden, and on the edge of this, in removing a stubborn gum-tree, the negroes had uncovered what they supposed to be the body of one murdered. Upon our knees, with Schmetz helping us, we were trying to tear away the rotten coverings, and the dirt and mold. And there, beautiful despite the stains disfiguring him, lay the boy Love. The marble pedestal from which he had been removed lay near him. ” cried Alicia, joyfully. “Oh, who could have been so stupid and so cruel as to hide away something so lovely?