I haf not long to live . Oh , I know , Leetle Joyce -- I know what de doctor look lak -- and I want to hear Madame Laurin sing ` fore I die . I know it is impossible -- but I long for it so -- just one leetle song . '' Denise put her thin hands over her face and sobbed again . Little Joyce went and sat down by the window , looking out into the white birches . Her heart ached bitterly . Dear Denise was going to die soon -- oh , very soon ! Little Joyce , wise and knowing beyond her years , saw that . And Denise wanted to hear Madame Laurin sing . It seemed a foolish thing to think of , but Little Joyce thought hard about it ; and when she had finished thinking , she got her little black doll and took it to bed with her , and there she cried herself to sleep . At the breakfast table next morning the Marshalls talked about the concert and the wonderful Madame Laurin . Little Joyce listened in her usual silence ; her crying the night before had not improved her looks any . Never , thought handsome Grandmother Marshall , had she appeared so sallow and homely . Really , Grandmother Marshall could not have the patience to look at her . She decided that she would not take Joyce driving with her and Chrissie that afternoon , as she had thought of , after all . In the forenoon it was discovered that Denise was much worse , and the doctor was sent for . He came , and shook his head , that being really all he could do under the circumstances . When he went away , he was waylaid at the back door by a small gypsy with big , black , serious eyes and long black hair . `` Is Denise going to die ? '' Little Joyce asked in the blunt , straightforward fashion Grandmother Marshall found so trying .
The doctor looked XXXXX her from under his shaggy brows and decided that here was one of the people to whom you might as well tell the truth first as last , because they are bound to have it .
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