"She fell over the stick with you," said Miss Bennett; "the dirty brute!"
With another great effort I hooked myself on to the march of events, as a truck is dragged out of a siding and hooked to a train.
"Oh, the Lord save us!" said a grey-haired woman who held the jug, "ye're desthroyed entirely, asthore! Oh, glory be to the merciful will of God, me heart lepped across me shesht when I seen him undher the horse!"
"Go out and see if the trap's coming," said Miss Bennett; "he should have found the doctor by this." She stared very closely at my face, and seemed to find it easier to talk in short sentences.
"We must get those cuts looking better before Mrs. Yeates comes."
After an interval, during which unexpected places in my head ached from the cold water, the desire to be polite and coherent again came upon me.
"I am sure it was not your mare's fault," I said.
Miss Bennett laughed a very little. I was glad to see her laugh; it had struck me her face was strangely haggard and frightened.
"Well, of course it wasn't poor Cruiskeen's fault," she said. "She's nearly home with Mr. Shute by now. That's why I came after you!"
"Mr. Shute!" I said; "wasn't he at the fair that day?"