“Now shall we talk a little about yourself? I want to know if you are comfortable here.”
Mrs. Dyke, after a meditative silence, said, “No, I’m always hungry.”
Emmie, shocked and pained, asked: “Don’t they give you enough to eat?”
“Too much,” said Mrs. Dyke mysteriously. “But I daren’t eat it. They want to poison me”; and she added after another pause that, having defeated this plot for a considerable number of years, she hoped still to get the better of them.
Then it was as if of a sudden she had been moved by some strange glimmer of intelligence or intuition with regard to Emmie. She looked at her searchingly with a changed expression in the eyes, and shrinking from her on the sofa, spoke loudly. “Are you an enemy or a friend?”
“A friend,” said Emmie.
“Of course she is,” said the nurse briskly. At the sound of the raised voice she had immediately come into the room. “And a very kind friend, too—to have come all the way from London to see you.”
“Who is it that has done me a great wrong?” said Mrs. Dyke, still scrutinising Emmie. “Aunt Janet told me. Is it you? Have you wronged me?”
“Oh, what stuff and nonsense,” said the nurse. “Wronged you indeed! That’s the silly way she goes on.”
Emmie, perturbed but brave, got Nurse Gale to leave them alone once more. Then she took the injured hand and very gently held it between both her hands.