“Yes,” said Burnett; “they’re a rough couple. Come, May, no nonsense. Get up. I’m not going to have my horses kept waiting all night.”
May made an effort to rise, but sank back, sobbing hysterically:
“My head!—my head!”
“Here, give her some brandy, Claire,” cried Burnett.
“No, no, no. It makes it worse.”
“Well, it will be better to-morrow. Come along.”
“No, no, I cannot bear it. Oh, my head!—my head!”
“Let me bathe it with the eau de Cologne,” said Claire tenderly.
“No, no. I cannot bear it.”
“Then come home,” cried Burnett.