"I'm all right, Sammy. Wouldn't I say so if I wasn't?" But she sat down rather weakly on the edge of the bed, holding the right side of her, breathing too hard.
"I—I shouldn't have beat that pillow is all. Let me get my breathing. I'm all right." Nevertheless, she let him relax her to his pillow, draw the covers down from the footboard, and cover her.
"This settles it," he said, quietly. "I'm going to get a doctor."
She caught his hand. "If—if you want to get me excited for sure, just you call a doctor—now—before I talk with you a minute—I want to talk—I'm all right, Sammy, if you let me talk to you. One step to that telephone, and I get excited—"
"Please, ma—"
"Sammy?"
"Yes."
"Will you listen to me and do like I want it?"
"Yes."
"I—been a bad old woman."