“Orilla been here?”
“Yes—”
“And she’s gone? Why didn’t you chain her till I came—”
“I couldn’t, Rosa, she had a dreadful headache—”
“Headache! What’s that to the trouble I’ve got? Her troubles, I mean,” and Rosa fell into a chair as if in despair.
“Do let me tell you, Rosa. I feel a little done up myself.”
“Selfish me, as usual. Go ahead, Coz. I’ve got my fingers crossed and am gripping both arms of the chair. No, that’s a physical impossibility; but I’ve got my feet crossed, so it’s all the same. Now please—tell!”
“Did you have any idea that Orilla came to her room here, in this house?” Nancy began in her direct way.
“Her room? In this house? What do you mean? She hasn’t any room here!”
“I mean the room she had before Betty came—”