"I enjoy sensations, and big head-lines. They tone me up. You're
different, I guess." A sudden thought seemed to occur to her, for she
regarded Constance for a moment as a doctor might look at a patient,
then she thrust her hand into the pocket of her jacket and produced a
small bottle which contained white tablets. "When I feel low in my
mind--done up--I take one of these."
"What are they?"
"Something a friend of mine at the hospital recommended. They do the
work." While delivering this not altogether candid response, Loretta
unscrewed the stopper and emptying a tablet on to her palm swallowed
it, then offered the bottle to her companion. "Have one?"
Constance shook her head.
"Well, the next time you feel fagged, ask me for one." An instant
later she sprang to her feet, exclaiming, "Why, here we are! We ought
to get out."
It was even so. The interest of their conversation had been such that
they had neglected to notice the flight of time or to observe where
they were. As the car was virtually at the point where they wished it
to stop, Loretta hurried toward the door, signalling to the conductor
as she did so; but she failed to catch his eye, for he happened to be
absorbed by an organ-grinder on the other side of the car from that on
which they were to get off. The car was moving slowly, and, though she
had her hand-bag, it was a simple matter to spring to the ground
without further ado. She did so successfully, landing a few feet
beyond the crossing. Constance, who was following close behind, heard
the voice of the conductor, "Wait, lady, until the car stops," and the
jingle of the bell, but she disdained to heed it. She jumped lightly,
but somehow the heel of her boot caught on the edge of the platform or
she slipped. At all events her impetus was thwarted, and instead of
landing on her feet, she pitched forward, striking her forehead on the
pavement.