"
She got up on her feet and threw
up her arms with a sudden jerk and
involuntary gesture.
"I 'm alive! I 'm alive!" she
cried out, "I've got ter be took care
of NOW! That 's why I like wot she
tells about it. So does the women.
We ain't no more reason ter be sure
of wot the curick says than ter be
sure o' this. Dunno as I've got ter
choose either way, but if I 'ad, I'd
choose the cheerflest."
Dart had sat staring at her--so
had Polly--so had the thief. Dart
rubbed his forehead.
"I do not understand," he said.
" 'T ain't understanding! It 's
believin'. Bless yer, SHE doesn't
understand. I say, let's go an' talk to 'er
a bit. She don't mind nothin', an'
she'll let us in. We can leave Polly
an' 'im 'ere. They can make some
more tea an' drink it."
It ended in their going out of the
room together again and stumbling
once more down the stairway's
crookedness. At the bottom of the
first short flight they stopped in the
darkness and Glad knocked at a door
with a summons manifestly expectant
of cheerful welcome. She used the
formula she had used before.
" 'S on'y me, Miss Montaubyn,"
she cried out. " 'S on'y Glad."
The door opened in wide welcome,
and confronting them as she
held its handle stood a small old
woman with an astonishing face. It
was astonishing because while it was
withered and wrinkled with marks of
past years which had once stamped
their reckless unsavoriness upon its
every line, some strange redeeming
thing had happened to it and its
expression was that of a creature to
whom the opening of a door could
only mean the entrance--the tumbling
in as it were--of hopes realized.
Pages:
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59