"Please! But be careful of that coat."
She began to bring order swiftly out of chaos.
"Martha!"
"Don't be stopping me now."
"What would you do if you knew that something that couldn't possibly be true absolutely was true?"
"For that," said Martha bluntly, "I'd take two tablespoonfuls of castor-oil."
"It is true," said the Poor Boy, "and it can't be."
He passed one hand in front of his face as if brushing a cobweb or—a hair.
"A hot-water bag at the feet," Martha continued impetuously, "and another on the pit of the stomick is a favored remedy with some."
"Martha...."