"Oh no, ma. Oh, Gawd! Ma, you ain't mad at me? Please—please! Honest, ma, your little Essie didn't know."
"Ma knows we didn't know, little lady. She ain't mad at us. She's glad that everything's going to be all right now; and you and her and Jimmie and me are—"
"Oh, my children!"
She smiled and slipped her fingers between her daughter's face and the coverlet.
"Look up, Essie! I feel so light! I feel so light! It's like it says on the lamp-mat—just like it says, Essie."
"Ma! Ma darlin', open your eyes!"
"Ma!"
"Here, Jimmie, lend a hand! Lemme hold her up—so! No; don't give her any more of that black stuff, Jimmie, old man. Wait till the doctor comes. Let her lie quiet on my arm—just like that; and hand me that ammonia-bottle there, Essie, like a sweet little lady. See there! She's coming round all right. Who says she ain't coming to? Now, ma—now!"
"Joe, don't leggo me!"
"Sure I won't, ma dearie."