'Yes. Your life depends upon it.'
She drank rather hastily at that. There was a long, long pause while Elizabeth, Henry and I gazed into each other's eyes and—waited.
'How do you feel now?' I asked at last with strained anxiety.
'I'm feeling rather sick now, thank you, Mama, dear. But perhaps I could manage a little of my cus——'
'No,' I interrupted. 'Can't you be sick, child?'
'I'm afraid I can't, Mama.'
'Then why can't you?' Henry burst out. 'It's dreadful—most unnatural.'
'She's got a stummick like an 'orse,' commented Elizabeth.
'Prompt action is vital,' put in Henry firmly. 'There are other emetics. Mustard and——'
'I've always 'eard that soap and water's good for turnin' any one over,' began Elizabeth.