Elsie looked critically at her sister. Geraldine did look ill, sallow and with black rims round her eyes, but then she had something altogether wrong with her digestion, and often looked like that.
“Bilious again?”
“’M. I think it was that beastly pudding we had last night. I’ve been awfully sick.”
“Poor wretch!”
Neither of them paid any attention to Nellie Simmons, who went on plunging and clattering greasy spoons and plates about in the water that steamed from a chipped enamel basin.
“Can’t you take this rag, Elsie, and wipe a bit, and let me get upstairs? I’m sure I’m going to be sick again.”
“I suppose I must, then—poor me!”
“Poor you, when you’ve been out since dinner! I should like to know what for. If it was me, now——Oh, Lord, my head!”
“Well, go on upstairs again. Have you tried the new medicine that Ireen’s aunt did the testimonial for?”
“Yes, and I don’t believe it’s a bit better than any of the others. I feel like nothing on earth. I say, where were you all the afternoon?”