“Is anyone missing who was here when the accident occurred?” she demanded.
A checkup was hastily made and it was found that two persons were missing.
“They’re probably at the crossroads helping those poor autoists,” the manager suggested.
Mrs. Willoughby, becoming more excited every moment, appeared not to have heard.
“One of them must have snatched my purse and run away with it!” she screamed. “Oh, help me catch the thief!”
She rushed toward the door, but before she reached it gave a low moan of pain and clutched at a table. She would have fallen to the floor had not Mrs. Potter caught her in her arms.
“It’s her heart!” Mrs. Potter cried. “The excitement has been too much for her. Oh, she’s fainted.”
Willing hands aided Mrs. Potter in stretching the limp figure out upon a couch. Someone brought a pitcher of water. A damp cloth was pressed against Mrs. Willoughby’s forehead and her hands were chafed. After a few minutes she began to revive.
“What will Emily say when I tell her?” she moaned over and over.
The bystanders murmured, some sympathetically, some skeptically.
“She will be all right in a few minutes,” Mrs. Potter said. “She has had trouble with her heart before. Poor thing! I don’t wonder that she fainted.”