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Rinehart, Mary Roberts, 1876-1958

"A Poor Wise Man"

Her old suspicion of
the girl revived, and she sat upright.
"Where I come from girls don't stay out alone until all hours," she
said.
"Oh, let me alone."
Ellen fell asleep, and in her sleep she dreamed that Mrs. Boyd had
taken sick and was moaning. The moaning was terrible; it filled
the little house. Ellen wakened suddenly. It was not moaning; it
was strange, heavy breathing, strangling; and it came from Edith's
bed.
"Are you sick?" she called, and getting up, her knees hardly holding
her, she lighted the gas at its unshaded bracket on the wall and ran
to the other bed.
Edith was lying there, her mouth open, her lips bleached and twisted.
Her stertorous breathing filled the room, and over all was the odor
of carbolic acid.
"Edith, for God's sake!"
The girl was only partially conscious. Ellen ran down the stairs
and into Willy's room.
"Get up," she cried, shaking him. "That girl's killed herself."
"Lily!"
"No, Edith. Carbolic acid."
Even then he remembered her mother.
"Don't let her hear anything, It will kill her," he said, and ran
up the stairs. Almost immediately he was down again, searching for
alcohol; he found a small quantity and poured that down the swollen
throat.


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