“There’s no use in my going up, Eliza. What can I do?”
Eliza had nothing to suggest. “I’m sure, maam,” she pleaded, “if she wont mind you, she wont mind me—bad manners to her!”
Mrs. Myers hesitated. The lodger became noisier.
“I spose Ive got to go,” said Mrs. Myers, plaintively. She went upstairs and found Susanna lying on the sofa, groaning, with a dressing-gown and a pair of thick boots on.
“What is the matter with you, Miss Susan? Youre goin on fit to raise the street.”
“For God’s sake go and get something for me. Make the doctor do something. I’m famishing. I must be poisoned.”
“Lord forbid!”
“Look at me. I cant eat anything. Oh! I cant even drink. I tell you I am dying of thirst.”
“Well, Miss Susan, thers plenty for you to eat and drink.”
“What is the good of that, when I can neither eat nor drink? Nothing will stay inside me. If I could only swallow brandy, I shouldnt care. I thought I could die drunk. Oh! Send Eliza out for some laudanum. I cant stand this: I’ll kill myself.”