We looked at each other a moment. "Did?" I echoed. "Did to whom?"
"She won't tell me—she says she can't. She tries to bring it out, but it sticks in her throat."
"Nonsense. She did nothing," I said.
"What could she do?" Helen asked, gazing at me.
"She's ill, she's in a fever, her mind's wandering."
"So I say to her father."
"And what does she say to him?"
"Nothing—she won't speak to him. He's with her now, but she only lies there letting him hold her hand, with her face turned away from him and her eyes closed."
"You must send for the doctor immediately."
"I've already sent for him."