Page:Arthur Stringer-The Loom of Destiny.djvu/214

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The Loom of Destiny

and blanket, and lifted the boy up into it. This she did with a quiet alacrity, for she was used to such things.

"I tell you, young man, those are pretty thin legs of yours!" she said, not unkindly, as she tucked him in for she liked the child.

The boy smiled weakly, but did not answer. Then the nurse gave him his milk, with lime-water in it, and brushed his scant yellow hair while he drank it. When he had finished she took the glass, gave a little touch to one of the pillows, and hurried away, for she had thirty other sick children to attend that morning.

Bliss—from the day he was born they had called him Bliss—sat quite still, watching the sun slip on and on through soft grey clouds with mother-of-pearl edges. Then, all of a sudden, it came out full and dazzling and golden, and lay in a patch of glaring yellow across his bed. He could feel it soaking in through the blankets. The feeling was new to him, and it ran up through his thin legs like wine.

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