It was not a common sight, though she’d been looking increasingly tired over the past two days. While usually robust and glowing with health, Madeleine sat slumped in the corner of the small couch, with Margaret next to her patting her hand. Margaret lifted her eyes to Georgie, surprising her with a flash of real concern in the dark depths. She tilted her head toward her sister. “Madeleine has had a bad morning, Georgeanne. Perhaps you could call down to room service and have them send up some tea?” Georgie nodded, immediately detouring toward the phone on a small table. “Of course.” “No.” Madeleine’s voice was scratchy, entirely too weak for the old woman. Georgie had never heard her sound so tired. “I will show no weakness. I simply didn’t sleep well.” “All the more reason for you to rest now, then,” Margaret argued. Madeleine sent her sister a harsh glare, but broke it off instantly as her face twisted with a grimace. Her thin hand flew to her chest, rubbing firmly until her nightgown was crushed beneath her fingers.
