“Rosy put her hand on my arm; it was like a live coal.
“‘Take me away!’ says she.
“We went through three rooms more, like that. Raffertys seemed as thick as blackberries there. At every step, Rosy’s hand got heavier and her face wilder.
“‘There’s only the one more,’ says the girl, ‘in that bed ...’ and she pointed to a corner where there was a screen up; ‘troth, I believe yous are late! Ay, the bed’s empty; she must have died since I was round this morning ... sure I could have told yous....’
“‘I don’t believe a word of what you’re saying!’ says Rosy; and her face was like scarlet now.
“‘Plaze yourselves!’ says the girl very impudent and hardened.
“But on the minute, up came a nun; she looked very nice and kind. But what could she do! only bring us to make sure, where the dead does be put ... and I won’t spake of that! But Rosy just saw that it was her very mother that was lying there ... no more respect for her than if it was a dumb brute mother-naked ... and so Rosy gave one little sigh out of her, and sank away down from me, on to the cold, hard floor....
“In a dead faint she was. They got the doctor, to see if he could bring her to.
“‘Sir,’ says I, ‘is there much a trouble to her?’
“‘There is, indeed,’ he says, ‘but there won’t be long!’ and then he said something about her lungs having been in a bad way for some time past; and now getting this chill, and the shock and all. There was little could be done for Rosy; all the doctors in Dublin wouldn’t save her.