'I! Look at me! Do you hear? Louise!'
This time, if she heard, Miss Casata gave no sign, but, sinking back on the bed, clutched at the counterpane, making a noise, as she gasped for breath, as if the walls of her chest would burst.
'Letty, let me go! I must do something. She'll relapse, or worse, if we don't take care.'
Miss Bewicke hastened to the wash-handstand. Emptying a jug of water into a basin, she took the basin in her hands and dashed the contents, with what force she could, into the lady's face.
The salutation was effectual. Miss Casata floundered, spluttering, on to the floor, more like herself.
Miss Bewicke confronted her, the basin still in her hands.
'Who did that?'
'I did. Louise, wake up!'
Miss Casata seemed to be endeavouring her utmost to obey the other's command.
'What's the matter?'