Page:Arthur Stringer-The Loom of Destiny.djvu/57

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The Iron Age

as touching the banister, and wondered if the poor child was ill again.

The next time Ali Baba came, Peggy sat waiting with her hands in her lap. She had stolen twelve of Susette's brass hairpins, and had done her frowsy little curls up in a ridiculous bob on the top of her head. Her heart was heavy, nevertheless, for she had found out for the first time that she had freckles—hundreds of them.

When Ali Baba came in he was in unusual good spirits, for he picked up Miss Peggy and impertinently kissed her on her little freckled nose and asked where her Aunt Frankie was.

Peggy resented that familiarity of address, whereupon Ali Baba kissed her again, and told her not to get priggish.

Peggy stamped her foot with rage. She would let Ali Baba know she was not a baby.

Ali Baba laughed and took her struggling in his arms, as he would hold an infant.

"I hate you, I hate you!" she cried hotly, as Ali Baba laughingly made his escape.

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