Just how long she remained slumped on the floor she would never know exactly; probably it was not more than half an hour at the most.
Finally lights penetrated her tired mind and the sweetish smell of the ether assailed her returning consciousness. Someone was shaking her gently and someone else was rubbing her arms.
“Wake up, Janet, wake up!” a voice kept repeating.
It sounded strangely like Helen’s voice, but Helen, she realized, had gone home hours before.
“Take a drink of this,” another voice commanded and Janet obeyed almost automatically for she was far from being in full command of her senses.
The cool water, flowing down her aching throat, helped and she tried to sit up.
“Take it easy,” a voice cautioned and she let her head drop back against someone’s knees.
Lights were on now in the corridor and as consciousness returned Janet recognized Helen leaning over her. Curt Newsom was massaging her arms and grumbling to himself in anger.
“Feeling better?” Helen asked as Janet’s eyes opened wide.
“I’ll be all right, soon. I’d like another drink of water,” said Janet.