The Mother Superior paused with her hand on the door knob.
She looked silently at her young companion, as if repeating the question she had already asked; and Sister Giovanna understood and slowly bent her head.
'I can bear anything now,' she said.
She opened the door, and the two entered the quiet room, where one of the Sisters sat reading her breviary by the shaded light in the corner.

The wounded man lay fast asleep under the influence of the morphia, and the white coverlet was drawn up to his chin.

He was not very pale, Sister Giovanna thought; but she could not see well, because there was a green shade over the small electric lamp in the corner of the room.
'Sister Giovanna will take your place for to-night,' said the Mother Superior to the nun, who had risen respectfully, and who left the room at once.
The mother and daughter turned to the bedside and stood looking down at the sleeping man's face.

Instinctively their hands touched and then held each other.

Experience told them both that in all probability Giovanni would sleep till morning under the drug, and would wake in a dreamy state in which he might not recognise his nurse at once; but sooner or later the recognition must take place, words must be spoken, and a question must be asked.