The man didn't seem facetious.
"Pardon me!" Emily spoke coldly.
The man was looking at her keenly.
"I said, has your daughter here a dog?" He made a gesture and——
Why, there was Martha, sunken down in the farther one of those crowded armchairs—that was her coat and hat, at least; her face was hidden. Emily moved quickly towards her.
"What do you mean?"
"Madame, this young lady has been trying to buy poison for her dog."
"There is some mistake about this." Emily felt herself begin to tremble. "My daughter hasn't a dog."
"We didn't think she had."
"What happened, Martha?" Emily's hand was on her shoulder, but Martha never lifted her head.