“Now with a night’s sleep I’ll be able to go up to Squire Hanaford’s and sign that deed. When your Uncle Charley comes tell him I’m just—napping!”
“She needs it,” snapped Martha, putting the shade before the light and smoothing the bed clothes.
Gloria crept down stairs. She found Dr. Daly talking to Jane and Trixy.
“She’s sleeping!” was Gloria’s announcement.
“And that’s all she needs,” declared the doctor. “This thing has been preying on her mind until she’s all but a wreck. Of course, she was always frail, but sick women are like flivvers. They give and take a lot. I need not see her,” he protested as Martha attempted to lead him to the sick room. “I was just passing and I wanted to tell you all that I left poor Mrs. Gorman very comfortable indeed.”
“And my folks are waiting dinner,” spoke Trixy. “Gloria—”
“I couldn’t—”
“You have got to, young lady,” directed Dr. Daly. “I don’t mind having patients but I don’t like to have them all in one day. You must rest quietly tonight with your friend.”
And so it was arranged. Jane was driven on to her sister’s but every rod of the way out to Trixy’s she and Gloria made plans—new ones and record breakers.
Gloria, once started, never turned back, and the mystery of Echo Park was yet to be solved.