"Oh, go to bed!" said Poppy wearily.
"I'll do nothing of the sort, thank you, extremingly. I will not go to my bed until you have eaten some dinner. Do you think I want all the trouble of a funeral in the house? You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Poppy, not taking any care of yourself, knowing what you do——"
The old woman paused with some significant intention, but Poppy only waved a pale hand in her direction.
"Go away and hold your peace, Kykie, for the love of Heaven!"
"I'll only go away to get you some food ... and you're to eat it, Poppy dear," she began to coax. "I'll bring you some nice hot soup, lovey, and a little chicken mayonnaise, and you will try and eat it, won't you? and a little glass of champagne."
"I couldn't Kykie ... only leave me alone...."
The old woman promptly seated herself upon the side of the bed with the air of an immovable rock.
"Well.... Oh, all right, then ... anything ... why can't you leave me alone?"
Kykie did; but she took the precaution of removing the bedroom door-key and taking it with her, for she knew her mistress's ways well. In a few moments she was back again, with half a pint of champagne and a little pile of caviare sandwiches, which she warranted to put life into a corpse if she could only force them down its throat. She almost proceeded to this extreme measure with Poppy, threatening, cajoling, and complaining all the while.
Eventually she took her departure with an empty plate and glass, and as she went she threw back a last menacing remark to the bed.