“A deal you remember about this morning!” Emma sneered in a breathless tone, lifting her arms as though they were hung with weights.
“I can remember all I want to, anyway, and that’ll be more than’ll suit you! I reckon I’m not the only one as see telegraph boy riding up about eight o’clock.”
A fresh thrill of excitement ran through the room, drawing the Chorus towards her again, in spite of their horror of drink. Subconsciously they knew what was coming, as they had known about Tibbie’s death; and Mrs. Clapham, too, guessing the truth in that instant, waited rigidly, holding her breath....
“Ay, I saw him for one!” Mrs. Tanner piped excitedly.... “Ay, and me,” added Mrs. Dunn. “And me,” finished Mrs. Clapham, speaking with stiff lips. “I made sure it was for t’ Hall!” went on Mrs. Tanner, thrilling in every nerve.
“Nay, it was not for t’ Hall, not it!” Martha Jane put her in place. “It was a deal nearer home than that. Telegraph-boy took it to Emma, but it was intended for poor Ann. And if you want to know what it said, well, it said as Tibbie was dying, and would Mrs. Clapham here be sure and come by the first train....”
For the first moment after the revelation there was absolute silence. Terrible as had been the suspicion at the back of the women’s minds, it was still more terrible when put into words. The huddle at the opposite wall was more like a huddle of sheep than ever. Emma’s lips were pressed tightly into a straight line, and her arms worked and worked as if they would never stop....
Slowly Mrs. Clapham took her leg from the tub, and with a painful effort drew herself up by the edge of the table. Her eyes fastened themselves upon Martha Jane, who met the terrible glance without flinching.
“Are you meaning to say they sent telegraph for me this morning, and I never got it?” she inquired, speaking with difficulty.
“Ay.”
“Are you meaning to say Emma kept me from my dying lass?”