Her ministrations eventually began to take effect. The bleached lips quivered, closed, then opened and closed several times. The woman's lashes trembled and curtained her eyes. Lucinda went to the bathroom for water. When she returned with half a glassful liberally laced with whiskey, Nelly Marquis was conscious; but her eyes, with pupils inordinately expanded, remained witless until she had drained the glass with convulsive gulps and Lucinda had set it aside.
"Do you think you're strong enough now to get to bed, if I help?"
The girl nodded: "... try," she whispered. Using all her strength, Lucinda succeeded in getting Nelly Marquis on her feet. About this time the clouded faculties began to clear. Clinging to Lucinda's arm, Nelly started as if in a spasm of fear, darted swift glances of terror round the room, then turned a look of perplexity to Lucinda.
"Where is he?" the whisper demanded. "Has he—has he gone?"
"There is no one else here, nothing to be afraid of. Come: let me help you to bed."
Recognition dawned as she spoke, with a movement of feeble fury the girl threw Lucinda's arm away, but deprived of its support staggered to the foot of the bed, to which she clung, quaking.
"You!" she cried—"what you doing here?"
"The door was open, I saw you lying senseless on the floor. I couldn't go on and leave you like that. You'd have done as much for me."
"Oh! would I? A lot you know!" Her knees seemed about to buckle; will-power alone kept Nelly Marquis from sinking; yet she persisted: "I suppose I ought to thank you. Well: much obliged, I'm sure. Is that enough?"
"Quite enough. I've no wish to annoy you. Only, let me suggest, you need a doctor. May I ask the office to call one?"