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And
that
afternoon
Sue
came
to
the
bed
where
Johnsy
lay
,
contentedly
knitting
a
very
blue
and
very
useless
woolen
shoulder
scarf
,
and
put
one
arm
around
her
,
pillows
and
all
.
"
I
have
something
to
tell
you
,
white
mouse
,
"
she
said
.
"
Mr.
Behrman
died
of
pneumonia
today
in
the
hospital
.
He
was
ill
only
two
days
.
The
janitor
found
him
on
the
morning
of
the
first
day
in
his
room
downstairs
helpless
with
pain
.
His
shoes
and
clothing
were
wet
through
and
icy
cold
.
They
could
n't
imagine
where
he
had
been
on
such
a
dreadful
night
.
And
then
they
found
a
lantern
,
still
lighted
,
and
a
ladder
that
had
been
dragged
from
its
place
,
and
some
scattered
brushes
,
and
a
palette
with
green
and
yellow
colors
mixed
on
it
,
and
--
look
out
the
window
,
dear
,
at
the
last
ivy
leaf
on
the
wall
.
Did
n't
you
wonder
why
it
never
fluttered
or
moved
when
the
wind
blew
?
Ah
,
darling
,
it
's
Behrman
's
masterpiece
--
he
painted
it
there
the
night
that
the
last
leaf
fell
.
"