Suddenly May opened the door, peeping round over the latch, much scared apparently.
"How quick you've been," she said.
"Quick?" repeated Jenny.
"Didn't you get my telegram?"
"No," said Jenny, and perceiving that May's eyes were red with weeping, her delightful anticipation was clouded with dread. "What did you want to telegraph for? Not—not about mother?"
May nodded.
"She isn't dead?" Jenny gasped.
"No, she isn't dead. But she's had to be took away. You know. To an asylum."
"Go on," said Jenny. "Oh, what a dreadful thing."
"Well, don't stand there," May commanded. "There's been crowd enough round here this morning as it is."