Chapter Thirty-OneAttached Find One Wife
“She’s alive,” said Mrs. Barrelforth, on her knees beside the inert form. Tim, kneeling too, couldn’t speak.
Mrs. Barrelforth shone the flashlight on Sybil’s face and forced an eyelid open. Then she sniffed at her lips. “Chloral hydrate,” she said. “Let’s get her inside.”
Tim’s hands were shaking so he could scarcely get the key into the lock. The rush of relief, after those seconds of thinking his wife had come home as clay, was almost too much for him. He leaned dizzily against the wall while his hand felt weakly for the light switch. Lights and the warm familiarity of hall and living-room steadied him a little. He turned back toward the porch, but Mrs. Barrelforth was already coming in with Sybil in her arms.
She laid her on the wicker settee
