Who was it?
What was it?'
"I thought for a minute Mrs. Dennison was going to faint, but Mrs.
Bird hung onto her and rubbed her hands, and whispered in her ear
(she had the cooingest kind of voice), and I ran and got her a
glass of cold water. I tell you it took considerable courage to go
downstairs alone, but they had set a lamp on the entry table so I
could see. I don't believe I could have spunked up enough to have
gone downstairs in the dark, thinking every second that child might
be close to me. The lamp and the smell of the biscuits baking
seemed to sort of keep my courage up, but I tell you I didn't waste
much time going down those stairs and out into the kitchen for a
glass of water. I pumped as if the house was afire, and I grabbed
the first thing I came across in the shape of a tumbler: it was a
painted one that Mrs. Dennison's Sunday school class gave her, and
it was meant for a flower vase.
"Well, I filled it and then ran upstairs. I felt every minute as
if something would catch my feet, and I held the glass to Mrs.
Dennison's lips, while Mrs. Bird held her head up, and she took a
good long swallow, then she looked hard at the tumbler.
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