The dead silence was broken by Pattie's sobs. Dot's arms were round her neck, pulling her down.
"Pattie, why you cly? Pattie own darling. Pattie mustn't cly. Pattie stay with Dot."
Pattie could do nothing but "cly" for a while. The morning had been one long strain, and this final fright broke her down. She hid her face in Dot's pillow and sobbed helplessly.
But presently the silence of the other who was present crept into her consciousness; and she lifted her head to look around. Mrs. Cragg sat apart, grey and wordless. All the self-assertion was for once washed-out of her. She had no excuse to offer, no self-defence to put forward. That abashed face was new to Pattie. She could not see in it the Mrs. Cragg whom she had hitherto known.
"Is ma-ma angly?" asked Dot's little voice.
"No, Dot. I think ma-ma is sorry," replied Pattie's trembling tones.
Mrs. Cragg neither moved nor looked round.
"I'm sorry to have had to be so rough," at length faltered Pattie, her chest heaving still. "I couldn't help it, you know. There was no time. If I had not made haste—"
Then a new fear swept across her.
"Did Dot take any? Mrs. Cragg, are you sure?—did she drink any of that stuff?"