"We could wait until tomorrow," Helen said. "He is so busy and I don't want to bring him up for nothing. He's being overworked."
"But for Notya!" Miriam exclaimed. "And don't you want to see him?" She could not keep still. "I can't bear people to be ill. He ought to come."
"Go and ask John."
"What does he know about it?" she whispered. "I keep thinking perhaps she will go mad."
"That's silly."
"It isn't. She looks—queer. If she does, I shall run away. I'm going to George. He'll drive into the town. You mustn't sacrifice Notya to Zebedee, you know."
Helen let out an ugly, scornful sound that angered Miriam.
"Old sheep!" she said, and Helen had to spare a smile, but she was thoughtful.
"Perhaps John would go."
"But why not George?"