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"Eugenia?"
Eugenia swung around and found Alison standing behind her. "Yes, Alison? What is it?"
"It's Dawri," Alison whispered. "She's much worse. What're we going to do?"
"First, we have to get her some more morphine," Eugenia said firmly. "To kill the pain. Do you know how it works? How to get a messenger boy to get it for us?"
Alison shook her head. "Yes. If I give him a jack of spades playing card, he'll go and get us the morphine at the drugstore."
"Right. That's the code that Dawn has worked out. Now go and call the drugstore and ask for the messenger boy to get here immediately. Now run. Do as I say," Eugenia said, shooing Alison away from her with the sweep of her hand.
Eugenia didn't know quite what to do. She hated even to cross the hall to enter Dawn's room. She could almost smell death each time she entered. And the atmosphere of this upper floor was so much different than that of the downstairs, where the girls were giggling and running around, decorating the house for a big time expected later in the evening. She couldn't tell the girls that Dawn was so bad, it wouldn't be fair to them to suppress their excitement for this special day and evening of the year. Christmas Eve was the one time they could have fun, let their frustrations be forgotten. Christmas Eve was meant to be gay, not quiet and foreboding. Not waiting for Death to enter the house, squelching it all. No, Eugenia had made her mind up. She wouldn't tell the girls. Dawn would want it that way. She would want the girls to have a good time and entertain the group of miners who were expected shortly after dark. She would want to be sure her house was the best house for entertainment, especially on one of the most important nights of the year.
"I did it," Alison said, bursting into the room once again.
Eugenia went to her and wrapped her arms around her shoulders. She didn't like Alison, but she had to act as though she did. To keep peace and harmony. "Good," she said quietly. "And now. You must promise to not breathe a word of Dawn's worsening to any of the girls," she added, frowning.
"But they'll notice," Alison said. "Dawn will be expected to make a showing. Especially when the tree is lit, later on this evening."
"We can tell them she's not feeling too well," Eugenia said. "We don't have to tell them how bad she is."
"But what if Dawn should… ?"
"I'm going to call a doctor just as soon as Dawn gets her injection and falls into a deep sleep."
"But Dawn____"
"I don't care what Dawn has said," Eugenia said stubbornly. "I'm going to get a doctor. Dawn has grown so weak she won't be able to argue with anyone about the matter. We must do what we can."
"When the morphine gets here, I'll give her the injection," Alison said. "Then I'll let you know when to call the doctor."
"Thanks Alison," Eugenia said. Eugenia just hadn't been able to give Dawn the injections needed to keep her at peace. She couldn't stick the needle into Dawn's body. It sickened her to think about it, much less to actually do it.
"I must go on down and join the girls," she added, checking her appearance in the mirror, brushing some loose strands of red hair from her eyes. She had kept the bangs that Clarissa had cut for her. She had liked the way it had seemed to help her eyes, which she thought were set too far apart.
She could still hear her Mama's words. "It's a true sign of intelligence, Eugenia," she had said. Eugenia had scoffed, wondering who in their right mind had made up the saying that eyes being set far apart could be a sure sign of genius. She certainly hadn't fallen into that category, or she most surely could have done more with her life than what she had. But yet, being a madam had its compensations.
She let her eyes lower to admire the green velveteen dress that hung in deep gathers around her waistline. The roundness and firmness of her highly exposed bosom was more noticeable beneath the smoothness of the velveteen, the dress itself feeling like the bare skin beneath it. It was at times like this, when Eugenia paid special attention to her body, that she missed Drew—the need of him against her body, his touch, his lips. So far, she hadn't been with another man and wondered how long she could wait for the passion to be dealt with once again. She had seen many men come and go from this house, some had even flirted with her and had invited her to have a drink with them, but she hadn't been able to do so. None of them compared with Drew. In any way, whatsoever.
"Is that all you want of me?" Alison said from beside her.
Eugenia had gotten so carried away with her thoughts, she had completely forgotten about Alison standing in the same room. She could feel her face reddening, knowing that Alison had seen her admiring her own figure. But, luckily, Alison hadn't been able to read her mind. "Yes," she murmured, moving away from the mirror, to the window. "Be off with you," she added, then stopped Alison when Eugenia saw quite a happening on the street below her. "Wait. Come here. Quick, Alison," she said, pulling her drapes aside, gaping openly.
"What is it?" Alison said, going to her side.
"What's the crowd for outside on the streets?"
"There's supposed to be a parade passing by here at three o'clock," Alison said, her eyes wide, taking it all in.
"A parade?"
"Yes. Quite often the Opera House sponsors such parades to advertise a show they're going to present there."
"But, it's so cold for a parade."
Alison laughed. "You don't know Frederick Heinmarch very well, do you?"
Eugenia turned and looked darkly toward Alison. She knew that Alison knew that she had stayed with Frederick. She knew that Alison knew that she knew much about Frederick. "And what do you mean by that remark?" she snapped.
