As Mrs. Sutton spoke, Anne looked up at Nathan Fawcett. A doctor was examining him. He sat there, coughing nonstop, looking like he could drop dead at any moment.
'At this rate, it won't be long before I'm a widow!'
Anne said, "I don't think so. He seems alright."
Truthfully, she didn't care if she became a widow. She had no real feelings for Nathan Fawcett. After all, she wasn't a masochist. Being with this man meant walking on eggshells every day, never knowing when he might fly into a rage.
But she knew her mother would be very concerned about it.
Her mother had always been a traditional, somewhat delicate woman who believed that a woman needed a man to rely on and couldn't get by without one.
That's why Anne had no choice but to hide her true feelings from her mother.
Mrs. Sutton said, "I hope he can live a bit longer! By the way, don't you know a lot of doctors? You should introduce him to some reliable ones."
Anne said, "I've already suggested that to him."
