“Into your arm!” I cried, struck by the phrase. “What do you mean?”
“Why with one of them—what do you call them? Sort of like a needle.”
“You don’t mean a hypodermic needle?”
“Yes!” Huldah smiled happily. “That is it. I just couldn’t think of what she called it. It is fine. You see, that way the medicine goes directly into your——”
“Huldah! Do you mean to say that Miss Letheny gave you a hypodermic?”
She nodded, pulling up the sleeve of her outing-flannel wrapper and showing me the tiny scar. I scrutinized it closely. It had been most deftly done. There were no skin abrasions, the vein had been carefully avoided, the needle quite evidently had been thrust into the flesh by a practised and unfaltering hand. And that hand belonged to Corole Letheny!
“Wasn’t that all right, Miss Keate? It didn’t hurt at all——”
I recalled myself to the present.
“Huldah,” I said severely, “never let anyone but a doctor or a trained nurse give you a hypodermic. Never!” And as her face turned rather green I added, “That was likely just some headache medicine that Dr. Letheny, or some one, had given Miss Letheny. So it is all right this time.” And, indeed, I could tell that Corole had actually given her only a mild opiate to relieve, most unwisely, her headache.
“Now,” I went on, as I caught sight of my wrist watch pointing to five o’clock. “Can you tell me something that I want to know, and forget that I asked you?”