“And yet you have a fine, well-developed brow,” she said; “plenty of brains there, and your eyes are clear and dancing with intelligence. Stay though, let me feel your pulse.”
She caught Annie’s wrist between her finger and thumb. Belle herself was all eagerness now; her attitude was that of one who stood at attention.
“Come,” she said. “H’m! I’m not a doctor, but I
don’t like that pulse. One moment it seems to be running away, the next it stops dead—then it is wabbly, quite uncertain. Annie Colchester, do you eat enough?”
“Don’t question me,” answered Annie.
Belle’s gray eyes traveled to Leslie’s face. Leslie’s lips formed a voiceless “No.” Belle understood her.
“By the way, where are you staying?” she asked, turning again to Annie; “have you any friends in town?”
“I have no special friends. I am in lodgings.”
“What address?”
“I cannot give you an address, because I am leaving to-day.”