“Normal is 98 degrees—about.”
“This looks like degrees!”
“Then you must be very ill.”
Lady Fanny turned a tragic face upon her friend, and Millie shuddered with a feeling of preliminary collapse. The practical instincts of her mother, however, came to her rescue.
“What was it when you began?”
“That!” Fanny pointed mournfully.
“It hasn’t moved?”
“It never does!”
Suspicion began to twinkle in Millie’s eyes.
“Which end do you put in?”