"It's too late now; you stayed away purposely."
"I am sorry I was delayed; but allow me to do it now."
"Leave me alone."
"But the wound will be inflamed."
"That's exactly what you are aiming at."
"Godmother, I beg you!"
"Don't come near me!" shrieked the sick woman furiously.
"I shall wait then," sighed the girl. "Shall I warm up your milk?"
"Milk! milk! and nothing but milk!—I am just sick of it. The doctor prescribed good chicken broth; and here it is Sunday, and I have had none since Tuesday."
"It's no fault of mine, godmother. The doctor prescribes—but money must be found to provide what he orders. And I can scarcely make twenty sous a day now."