At four o'clock Nance returned to the flat, to be met by the announcement that her sister had a bad headache and had gone to her own room. Full of concern, she flew along the corridor and knocked on Clodagh's door.
In a very low voice Clodagh gave her leave to enter.
She opened the door swiftly; then paused, alarmed. The blinds were drawn, and by the subdued light she saw Clodagh lying on a couch near one of the windows.
"Why, Clo! What's the matter?"
She ran forward and dropped on her knees by the couch.
Clodagh extended two rather cold hands, and took possession of Nance's warm ones.
"Nothing but a wretched headache! It will go, if I lie down all the afternoon and keep quiet to-night."
Nance looked up.
"But how can you—at the play?"
"I'm not going to the play."