"Why didn't you let me know about it?
I might have got something out of Old Aunt." "We didn't want anything of that sort," said her stepmother hastily.
"But of course--well, I expect I'm still feeling the worry now.

I don't seem able to forget it.

Those days of waiting, of--of--" she restrained herself; another moment and the word "starving" would have left her lips.
"But everything's all right now," said Bunting eagerly, "all right, thanks to Mr.Sleuth, that is." "Yes," repeated his wife, in a low, strange tone of voice.

"Yes, we're all right now, and as you say, Bunting, it's all along of Mr.Sleuth." She walked across to a chair and sat down on it.

"I'm just a little tottery still," she muttered.
And Daisy, looking at her, turned to her father and said in a whisper, but not so low but that Mrs.Bunting heard her, "Don't you think Ellen ought to see a doctor, father?
He might give her something that would pull her round." "I won't see no doctor!" said Mrs.Bunting with sudden emphasis.