“Joe,” she directed rapidly, “have Fannie bring a glass of milk with an egg and a little brandy in it, right away.”
The girl in the chair was shaking soundlessly under the stress of her emotions. A few disjointed phrases fell from her quivering lips.
“I didn't know—oh, I couldn't!”
“Don't try to talk just now,” Mary warned, reassuringly. “Wait until you've had something to eat.”
Aggie, who had observed developments closely, now lifted her voice in tardy lamentations over her own stupidity. There was no affectation of the fine lady in her self-reproach.
“Why, the poor gawk's hungry!” she exclaimed! “And I never got the dope on her. Ain't I the simp!”
The girl regained a degree of self-control, and showed something of forlorn dignity.
“Yes,” she said dully, “I'm starving.”
Mary regarded the afflicted creature with that sympathy born only of experience.
“Yes,” she said softly, “I understand.” Then she spoke to Aggie. “Take her to my room, and let her rest there for a while. Have her drink the egg and milk slowly, and then lie down for a few minutes anyhow.”