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Turner, Ethel Sybil, 1872-1958

"Seven Little Australians"

"
It was as bad as a sentence of death. The room swam before the girl's
eyes, there was a singing and rushing in her ears.
"Come at once," the Captain said. Judy gave a little caught breath;
it tickled her throat and she began to cough.
Such terrible coughing, a paroxysm that shook her thin frame and made
her gasp for breath. It lasted two or three minutes, though she put
her handkerchief to her mouth to try to stop it.
She was very pale when it ceased, and he noticed the hollows in her
cheeks for the first time.
"You had better come to the house first," he said, less harshly, "and
see if Esther has any cough stuff."
Then in his turn he caught his breath and grew pale under his bronze.
For the handkerchief that the child had taken from her lips had
scarlet, horrible spots staining its whiteness.

CHAPTER XIV The Squatter's Invitation So

After all there was no dogcart for Judy, no mountain train, no
ignominious return to the midst of her schoolfellows, no vista of
weary months unmarked by holidays.
But instead, a warm, soft bed, and delicate food, and loving voices
and ceaseless attention. For the violent exertion, the scanty food,
and the two nights in the open air had brought the girl to indeed a
perilous pass.


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