She has been ill ever since.

One must draw one's own inference." Mr.Parmalee busied himself some five minutes in profound silence.
Then-- "Where is she to-day?
Ain't she about ?" "No.

I told you she was ill.

She complained of headache after you left yesterday, and went up to her own room.

I have not seen her since." Mr.Parmalee began to whistle a negro melody, and still went industriously on with his work.
"I don't think nothing of that," he remarked, after a prolonged pause.
"Fine ladies all have headaches.