She was right again.
"An' what happened thin, I niver can say no further!"
The doctor, referring to a note book, spoke next. "She was brought here," he said, "on the seventh of last July, about six o'clock in the evening, having been knocked down by a horse at the corner of Camden and Lisiden Streets."
"Whist!" cried Mrs. O'Malligan, her shawl fallen to the floor, her bonnet now hanging by the strings down her back, "that's our own corner, an' it's as plain to me now as the nose on yer face! Not findin' me to home, ye were runnin' over to the grocery to find out from yer sister's husband's brother Bill whativer had become of the family!"
The sharp Irish lady had hit it again, and Miss Ruth here interrupted to ask Miss Bonkowski if she could remember the date on which the child had been found in the vacant room. After some thought and debate, Miss Norma declared it to have been on the morning of the eighth of July, because her own birthday came on the fifteenth and she remembered remarking the child had then been with them a week.
But here the whole party came to a standstill, and the wild, imploring look came back in poor Rosy O'Brien's eyes.
The doctor laid his hand on her shoulder reassuringly. "Don't fret, my girl, it will all come right now in time. It is no wonder," turning to Miss Stannard, "she has been so slow getting better. I have said a hundred times the girl had something on her mind."
Miss Ruth turned to Rosy again. "Does the child's mother, or do her people live here in the city?" she inquired.
The eyelids failed to move, which according to the doctor meant no.