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 occupied her. The bottle had broken in half where it was cracked, so that the contents rushed out at once. She swallowed all that flowed freely, and, damming the rest with her finger, stood up. The Water was horribly wasted. Some had soaked into the carpet. The newspaper had received a certain amount, and this, owing to a lucky crease, formed a little pool on its surface. Now, for the first time, Miss Semaphore thought of her sister, whose money had been equally invested in the purchase. Should she call Prudence, tell her what had happened, and bid her drink the little that remained? The fear that there would not be enough for herself prevailed, and stifling the voice of conscience, Augusta gathered up the paper with delicate fingers, carefully made it into a sort of funnel, and drank off its contents. Then she sat down on the side of the bed, and considered her conduct with a certain amount of shame, not unmingled with alarm. So far, she felt nothing more than the sensation of having swallowed a quantity of cold water of peculiar flavour.

"After all," she said, to stifle her remorse, "there was scarcely sufficient to make one person young, not to speak of two, and I