"Miss Smith,
for heaven's sake don't cry like that! My dear girl, stop it. You
run me distracted, Miss Smith!--Give her some vinegar or something,
Jelnik! Confound you, Jelnik!--why don't you do something? Burn a
feather under her nose! Make her stop it, Jelnik! She'll kill
herself, if she keeps on crying like that! Here!" cried The Author,
desperately; and tried to push back my hair and all but scalped me.
"Get away!" said Mr. Jelnik. "I'll try to quiet her. Miss Smith, if
you don't stop crying, I shall slap you! Do you understand me, Miss
Smith? Stop it this minute, or I shall slap you!" He thrust an arm
around my shoulders and pulled me erect, none too gently.
"I--I--I ca-ca-ca--n't!"
"You can!" he snapped. "Stop it! Sophy, _shut up!_"
I was so astonished that in the middle of a howl I blinked, and
gasped, and gulped, and stopped!
"Ring the bell, by the door," Mr. Jelnik told The Author, curtly.
And when Daoud appeared, he ordered: "Cordial--top shelf; and some
ice-water."
Five minutes later a forlorn and red-eyed wreck was sitting up
looking at two wretched, embarrassed men. Thank Heaven, they looked
just as miserable as they should have felt! Daoud brought me scented
water, and I bathed my face.
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