For answer the lace cap moved in a negative shake of the head.
“Why, no,” Molly said. Then, a moment later: “I guess I wasn’t asleep.”
Blanche raised an admonishing finger.
“Foxing, eh?”
The smiling eyes were inviting, and Molly drew a deep breath. Blanche waited for her to speak, but the girl closed her eyes again, as though seeking to avoid the sight of the things about her.
Blanche went on with her work.
“Blanche!”
The summons came with an energy that startled the girl at the window. She looked up, and rose from her chair, and, laying her sewing aside, came swiftly to the bedside.
“Yes, dear?” she said gently.
“May I—I want to talk to you,” Molly raised herself on her pillows.