Sullivan,
seemed full of an agony that almost abstracted her from external
life. It was not, however, so wholly absorbing as to prevent it from
expressing a marked interest, whether for good or evil, in the woman who
addressed her so hospitably.
"Husht, now--husht," she said, as if aside--"husht, won't you--sure I
may speak the thing to her--you said it--there now, husht!" And then
fastening her dark eyes on Mrs. Sullivan, she smiled bitterly and
mysteriously.
"I know you well," she said, without, however, returning the blessing
contained in the usual reply to Mrs. Sullivan's salutation--"I know you
well, Mary Sullivan--husht, now, husht--yes, I know you well, and the
power of all that you carry about you; but you'd be better than you
are--and that's well enough now--if you had sense to know--ah, ah,
ah!--what's this!" she exclaimed abruptly, with three distinct shrieks,
that seemed to be produced by sensations of sharp and piercing agony.
"In the name of goodness, what's over you, honest woman?" inquired Mrs.
Sullivan, as she started from her chair, and ran to her in a state of
alarm, bordering on terror--"Is it sick you are?"
The woman's face had got haggard, and its features distorted; but in a
few minutes they resumed their peculiar expression of settled wildness
and mystery.
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