"Oh! there's nothing wrong. I--I'm only a bit upset."
She put her arm through mine. She led me across the room. I required leading. She drew me into an alcove, which was formed by a window bay.
"Now, George, tell me what is wrong. I know there is something wrong. Tell me what it is."
I was at a loss for words. I trifled with her.
"Margaret! What do you mean?"
"George, was"--her voice sank to a whisper--"was there anything wrong about that stuff you gave us?"
What could I say to her?
"It--it was a mistake drinking it after dinner."
"Is that all? Was it the right stuff, George?"
"It--it was the stuff Hughes gave me."