She let no one in the family take any until she had passed upon them.
"I didn't want to make a fuss," he explained.
"Where is it ?" she demanded, on the edge of the bed now, ready to rise.
"I'll show it to you in the morning, mother.

Lie down and go to sleep.
I've been awake long enough." "Where is it ?" she repeated, and he heard her moving across the room toward the gas fixture.
"In my vest pocket.

It's a box of pills.

You can't tell nothin' about it." She lit the gas and went to his waistcoat, hanging where it always hung at night--on a hook beside the closet door.

He watched her fumble through the pockets, watched her take her spectacles from the corner of the mantel and put them on, the bridge well down toward the end of her nose.