"Oh, any kind. I—oh, I'm so tired."
"Never mind," said Mary, soothingly. "I'm sorry, my dear. I won't bother you now. Perhaps I can think——" She paused as an inspiration came to her. "I know what I'll do. I'll call up one of your references on the telephone and explain that I need a little advice."
Nell turned quickly and stared at her.
"Oh, no," she muttered. "You shouldn't do that."
"But, don't you see——"
Nell was shaking her head, then groaning with the pain it caused her.
"Very bad form," she managed to say. "It's never done."
Mary subsided into a perplexed silence. If it was bad form of course she would not do it. She must be scrupulous about matters of form. More than ever she felt herself a neophyte in the social universe; she knew neither its creed nor its ritual.
"All right; I won't do it, my dear. There now, don't worry. The doctor says you're going to come out all right, but it will take a little time."
"You've—you've got to hold the job," whispered Nell.