wide doorway. Three o'clock. And three o'clock said, as clearly as
words "Priscilla's nap." Agnes had tucked her in her crib, with a
"cacker"--and had taken the other children for their promised walk
with the new puppy. Pauline had rushed out of the house at the
first alarm--

And Priscilla's mother was here at the club. Nancy felt that she
was going to get dizzy, she turned an ashen face to Mrs.
Biggerstaff.

"The baby--Priscilla!" she said, in a sharp whisper. "Oh, Ruth--
did they remember her! Oh, God, did they remember her! Oh, baby--
baby!"




Chapter Thirty-two


The last words were no more than a breath of utter agony. A second
later Nancy turned, and ran. She did not hear the protest that
followed her, nor realize that, as she had taken off her wide-
brimmed hat for the card-game, she was bare-headed under the
burning August sun. She choked back the scream that seemed her
only possible utterance, and fought the deadly faintness that
assailed her. Unhearing, unseeing, unthinking, she ran across the
porch, and down the steps to the drive.

Here she paused, checkmated. For every one of the motor-sheds was