"No such thing," she croaked. "How dare you think so, you wicked
little fool?"
"Get into bed, Mary," said Baxter. "You'll catch a chill."
She obeyed, but sat up with the grey shawl round her lean
shoulders, glaring at her sister. "I'm better now," she panted. "
Arthurs let me sit out too long. Where's Arthurs? The kettle."
"Never mind Arthurs," said Baxter. "You get the kettle." I
hastened to bring it from the side table. "Now, Mary, as God sees
you, tell me what you've done."
His lips were dry, and he could not moisten. them with his
tongue.
Miss Mary applied herself to the mouth of the kettle, and between
indraws of steam said: "The spasm came on just now, while I was
asleep. I was nearly choking to death. So I went to the window
I've done it often before, without, waking any one. Bessie's such
an old maid about draughts. I tell you I was choking to death. I
couldn't manage the catch, and I nearly fell out. That window
opens too low. I cut my hand trying to save myself. Who has tied
it up in this filthy handkerchief? I wish you had had my throat,
Bessie.
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