CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUREllie Page lay in a state of dazed wretchedness. She made no effort to rouse herself. As long as she did not move, perhaps they would leave her alone. She took the bread-and-milk which Mary brought her in the morning, the bowl of soup and the custard pudding at lunch-time. Mary held them to her lips spoonful by spoonful and she swallowed them. If she had refused, they would have sent for the doctor. So she took them, and turned her face into the pillow again. And at tea-time when she had swallowed a cup of hot milk Mary brought water to wash her face, and then sat down by the bedside.
“Ellie, I’ve got to talk to you.”
She looked with imploring eyes.
“If I don’t, John will.”
She had to say it, because it was the truth. There had to be an explanation between her and El
