Murder in Burnt Orange (2011)
“—Samuel Gompers, 1898 Patrick saw Hilda home and then went to the police station with his awful burden of news. Hilda dragged herself up to their bedroom and lay on the bed, too weary in body and spirit even to undress.
A tap on the door. Eileen came in, her eyes full of worry. “Is it ill you are feelin’, ma’am? Shall I get the doctor?”
“No, thank you, Eileen. I feel ill, but not anything a doctor can cure.”
Eileen frowned. “Will you be wantin’ your supper then, when Mr. Patrick com...es home?”
Hilda sighed. “I do not want to eat, Eileen, but save something for Patrick. He may be hungry. I do not think so, but he may.”
“Oh, ma’am, what is it? What’s wrong?” Eileen was wringing her hands. “It isn’t somethin’ wrong about the babe, is it?”
Hilda sat up and pushed back her hair, which was in limp disarray. “No, not the baby.MoreLess
A tap on the door. Eileen came in, her eyes full of worry. “Is it ill you are feelin’, ma’am? Shall I get the doctor?”
“No, thank you, Eileen. I feel ill, but not anything a doctor can cure.”
Eileen frowned. “Will you be wantin’ your supper then, when Mr. Patrick com...es home?”
Hilda sighed. “I do not want to eat, Eileen, but save something for Patrick. He may be hungry. I do not think so, but he may.”
“Oh, ma’am, what is it? What’s wrong?” Eileen was wringing her hands. “It isn’t somethin’ wrong about the babe, is it?”
Hilda sat up and pushed back her hair, which was in limp disarray. “No, not the baby.MoreLess
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