After this Molly seemed more restless, and did not sleep so soundly, though many hours went by, and it was nearly noon before she was aroused at length by some one exclaiming loudly and persistently from beneath the tree, and something cold and hard grabbing at her arms and legs.
Molly sat up, rubbing her eyes, and then became aware that a chubby, startled-looking little woman in a black and white check dress and a black bonnet was calling up to her while she made frantic efforts to catch hold of Molly with the crooked handle of her umbrella.
“Oh, thank goodness, you ’ave woke up, which I thought you never was going to!” cried the plump little woman, dabbing her face with her handkerchief. “Such a fright as you give me, lying quite still there and me a-hollering at you for a hour or more, though I’d never a-seen you if it hadn’t been for your ’and and arm ’anging down out of the tree....”
“Who are you?” asked Molly drowsily. “I’m glad you did wake me up.”
“Maria Jennet is my name,” was the answer. “I done my best to wake you up, but my! you do want a bit of waking. Made me quite ’ot, you ’ave.”
“Oh, are you Mrs Jennet?” said Molly. “Mrs Rose’s friend?”
“I am,” said Mrs Jennet emphatically.
“Why, I was on my way to your house last night, when—when ... Oh!” Molly gave a scream.
“Oh!” screamed Mrs Jennet. “What is it now? You do give a body the jumps, you do!”
But Molly did not answer. She was gazing with horrified eyes at her right arm. On the wrist was a long grey stain!