When the last leaves leaf falls, I will die. I have known this for the last three days.
Six, they are falling faster now. Three days ago there were almost hundred leaves. There are only five left now.
It is autumn, and the leaves will fall.
Oh, that's nonsense. What have old ivy leaves to do with your getting well? The doctor is confident you will get better.
What is it, dear?
Johnsy did not say anything. Sue went and brought her a bowl of soup.
I don't want any soup, I am not hungry..Now there are only four leaves left. I want to see the last one fall before it gets dark. Then I will sleep forever.
All right, finish your painting soon for I want to see the last leaf fall. I'm tired of waiting. I have to die, so let me go away peacefully like one of those poor, tired leaves.
Try to sleep. I have to paint an old miner. I will call Behrman up to be my model.
You are not going to die. I can't draw the curtain for I need light to finish the painting and get some money for us. Please promise not to look out of the window while I paint.
She rushed down. Behrman lived on the ground floor. He was a sixty-year-old painter. His lifelong dream was to paint a masterpiece but that had remained a dream. Sue poured out her worries to Behrman. She told him how Johnsy was convinced that she would die when the last leaf fell.
Is she stupid? How can she be so foolish?
I will come with you and see Johnsy.
She is running a high temperature. She refuses to eat or drink and that worries me a lot.
They tiptoed into the room. Johnsy was sleeping. Sue drew the curtains together and they went to the next room.
She peeped out through the window. There was only one leaf on the creeper. It was raining heavily and an icy-cold wind was blowing. It seemed as though the leaf would fall any minute now. Behrman did not say a word. He went back to his room.
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