As Miss Polly's strength to hers, so was her strength to O'Hara's.
Faint, despairing moans issued from Archibald's room as she reached the landing; and going inside, she saw George wrestling feebly with O'Hara, who held him with one hand while with the other he waved authoritative directions to Miss Polly.
"Get the bed ready for him, with plenty of hot blankets.

He's about at the end of his rope now.

It's a jag, but it's more than a jag, too.

If I'm not mistaken he's in for a case of pneumonia." Miss Polly, hovering timidly at a safe distance, held out the blankets and the hot water bottles, while O'Hara carried George across the room to the bed, and then covered him warmly.

When he turned to glance about his gaze fell on Gabriella, and he remarked bluntly: "You'd better get out.