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Page 213
but it recurred with renewed intensity when she paid her customary morning visit to determine Mrs. Bates's plans for the day. Gertrude opened the door promptly enough, but her eyes were heavy-lidded and dull.
"Gertrude," Linda exclaimed, "you look awful. Do you feel all right?"
"To tell the truth, Miss, I don't. I nearly couldn't wake up this morning, and my head is that heavy and achy, I don't know what's the matter."
"Do you have a fever?"
"No, I don't. And I felt just fine yesterday. I don't feel sick, Miss Linda, just dopey."
Dopey was the key word. Linda's breath drew in sharply. The symptoms, now that she was alerted to them, were all too familiar. Plenty of Linda's friends had found their sleep in a bottle of pills. Gertrude had been drugged.
"Have you seen Mrs. Bates this morning?" Linda asked quickly.
"Yes." Gertrude lowered her voice. "She seems a little annoyed about something. Maybe you better go in right away. I shouldn't have kept you here talking."
As long as the older woman was safe, Linda didn't mind if she was cross. She tapped at the door and was told in a rather brisk voice to come in.
"Good morning, Mrs. Bates."
"Good morning. Now, Linda, you are a dear girl to be so concerned over Gertrude and myself, but you should realize that elderly

 
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