when he admitted her and the shortness of her breath finished that.
It availed Mrs. Toomey nothing to tell herself that Mrs. Pantin was her best friend, and that what she was asking was merely a matter of business—the sort of thing that Mr. Pantin was doing every day. Her heart beat ridiculously and she was rather shocked to hear her self laughing shrilly at Mr. Pantin's banzai inquiry as to whether she had not "nearly blown off." He added in some haste:
"Priscilla's in the kitchen."
Mrs. Pantin looked up in surprise at her caller's entrance.
"How perfectly sweet of you to come out a day like this!" she chirped. "You'll excuse me if I go on getting dinner? We only have two meals a day when we don't exercise. This wind—isn't it dreadful? I haven't been out of the house for a week."
She placed two rolls in the warming oven and broke three eggs into a bowl.
"Abram and I are so fond of omelette," she said, as the eggbeater whirred. "Tell me," she beamed brightly upon Mrs. Toomey, "what have you been doing with yourself?"
"Priscilla—Prissy—" Mrs. Toomey caught her breath—"I've been miserable—and that's the truth!"
"Why, my dearl" The egg-beater stopped.
"Aren't you well? No wonder—I'm as nervous as a witch myself." The eggbeater whirred again encouragingly. "You must use your will power you mustn't allow yourself to be affected by these external things."
"It's not the wind." Mrs. Toomey's eyes were swimming now. "I'm worried half to death."
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