6
Miss Dear sat down with an indrawn breath.
Miriam drew her Gladstone bag a little closer. “I have only a second.”
“All right dear. You’ve only just come.”
It was as if nothing had happened the whole week. She was not going to say anything. She was ill again just in time for the week-end. She looked fearfully ill. Was she ill? The room was horrible—desolate and angry....
Miriam sat listening to the indrawn breathings.
“What is the matter?”
“It’s my epileptiform neuralgia again. I thought Dr. Ashley-Densley would have been in. I suppose he’s off for the week-end.”
She lay back pale and lifeless looking with her eyes closed.
“All right, I won’t go, that’s about it,” said Miriam angrily.