"There, now," he remarked, with genuine sympathy as he held the
glass to her lips. "You'll begin to feel better in a minute. This young
lady can't stay but a little while, so you'd better try to buck up."
"I'll try," answered the woman obediently. "I'll try--but it isn't easy
to come back out of hell." Lifting her head from the pillow, as if it
were a dead weight that did not belong to her, she stared at Patty while
her tormented mind made an effort to remember. In a minute her mouth
worked pathetically, and she burst into tears. "I can't come back now, I
can't come back now," she repeated in a whimpering tone. "But I'll be
better before long, and then I want to see you. There are things I want
to tell you when I get the strength. I can't think of them now, but they
are things about Gideon Vetch."
"About Father?" asked the girl, and her voice trembled.
The woman stopped crying, and looked up appealingly, while she wiped her
eyes on the ragged edge of the blanket. "Yes, about Gideon Vetch.
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