Page:E Nesbit - The Literary Sense.djvu/84

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THE LITERARY SENSE

"Go on," he said, "tell me all about it."

"Well, then, I went into lodgings; that wicked woman had left me one street suit—and to-day they turned me out because my money was all gone. I had a little money in my purse—and this dress had been ordered for a fancy ball—it is smart, isn't it?—and it came after that wretch had gone—and the guitar, too—and I thought I could make a little money. I really can sing, though you mightn't think it. And I've been at it since five o'clock—and I've only got one shilling and seven pence. And no one but you has ever even thought of thinking whether I was tired or hungry or anything—and papa always took such care of me. I feel as if I had been beaten."

"Let me think," he said. "Oh—how glad I am that you happened to come this way."

He reflected a moment. Then he said—

"I shall lock up all the doors and windows in the house—and then I shall give you my latch-key, and you can let yourself in and stay the night here—there is no one in the house. I will catch the night train, and bring my mother up to-morrow. Then we will see what can be done."