She had come upstairs and into the room to find Trina stretched face downward upon the floor, half-conscious and sobbing, in the throes of an hysteria for which there was no relief.

The woman, terrified, had called her husband, and between them they had got Trina upon the bed.
Then the German woman happened to remember that Trina had friends in the big flat near by, and had sent her husband to fetch the retired dressmaker, while she herself remained behind to undress Trina and put her to bed.

Miss Baker had come over at once, and began to cry herself at the sight of the dentist's poor little wife.

She did not stop to ask what the trouble was, and indeed it would have been useless to attempt to get any coherent explanation from Trina at that time.

Miss Baker had sent the German woman's husband to get some ice at one of the "all-night" restaurants of the street; had kept cold, wet towels on Trina's head; had combed and recombed her wonderful thick hair; and had sat down by the side of the bed, holding her hot hand, with its poor maimed fingers, waiting patiently until Trina should be able to speak.
Towards morning Trina awoke--or perhaps it was a mere regaining of consciousness--looked a moment at Miss Baker, then about the room until her eyes fell upon her trunk with its broken lock.