Mrs. Crashaw: “Of course it is!”
Mrs. Roberts: “You recognize my voice?”
Mrs. Crashaw: “I should hope so, indeed! Why shouldn’t I?”
Mrs. Roberts: “And you know me? Agnes? Oh!”
Mrs. Crashaw: “Don’t be a goose, Agnes.”
Mrs. Roberts: “Oh, it is you, aunty. It is! Oh, I’m so glad! I’m so happy! But keep perfectly still, aunty dear, and we’ll soon have you out. Think of baby, and don’t give way.”
Mrs. Crashaw: “I shall not, if the elevator doesn’t, you may depend upon that.”
Mrs. Roberts: “Oh, what courage you do have! But keep up your spirits! Mrs. Miller and I have just come from seeing baby. She’s gone to sleep with all her little presents in her arms. The children did want to see you so much before they went to bed. But never mind that now, Aunt Mary. I’m only too thankful to have you at all!”
Mrs. Crashaw: “I wish you did have me! And if you will all stop talking and try some of you to do something, I shall be greatly obliged to you. It’s worse than it was in the sleeping car that night.”
Mrs. Roberts: “Oh, do you remember it, Aunt Mary? Oh, how funny you are!” Turning heroically to her husband: “Now, Edward, dear, get them out. If it’s necessary, get them out over my dead body. Anything! Only hurry. I will be calm; I will be patient. But you must act instantly. Oh, here comes Mr. Curwen!” Mr. Curwen mounts the stairs to the landing with every sign of exhaustion, as if he had made a very quick run to and from his house. “Oh, he will help—I know he will! Oh, Mr. Curwen, the elevator is caught just below here with my aunt in it and Mrs. Miller’s husband”—