sorry for that, m’m,’ I says. ‘You’ll feel better after a nice hot cup of tea, m’m.’ She had something in her hand. I don’t know if it was a letter, or just a piece of paper, but it had writing on it, and she kept staring at it, almost as if she couldn’t believe what was written there. She whispered to herself, as though she had forgotten I was there: ‘These few words—and everything’s changed.’ And then she says to me: ‘Never trust a man, Dorcas, they’re not worth it!’ I hurried off, and got her
he stopped dead, staring at the figure on the bed, and, at the same instant, Mrs. Inglethorp cried out in a strangled voice, her eyes fixed on the doctor:
“Alfred—Alfred–-” Then she fell back motionless on the pillows.
With a stride, the doctor reached the bed, and seizing her arms worked them energetically,