FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   6   7   8   9   10   11   12   13   14   15   16   17   18   19   20   21   22   23   24   25   26   27   28   29   30  
31   32   33   34   35   36   37   38   39   40   41   42   43   44   45   46   47   48   49   50   51   52   53   54   55   >>   >|  
ostwhistle; "I remember seeing 'er there--leastways, it was an 'er right enough then. What 'ave you done with your clothes?" "They weren't mine," explained Tommy. "They were things what Mrs. Hammond had lent me." "Is that your own?" asked Mrs. Postwhistle, indicating the blue silk garibaldi. "Yes." "What went with it?" "Tights. They were too far gone." "What made you give up the tumbling business and go to Mrs. 'Ammond's?" "It gave me up. Hurt myself." "Who were you with last?" "Martini troupe." "And before that?" "Oh! heaps of 'em." "Nobody ever told you whether you was a boy or a girl?" "Nobody as I'd care to believe. Some of them called me the one, some of them the other. It depended upon what was wanted." "How old are you?" "I dunno." Mrs. Postwhistle turned to Peter, who was jingling keys. "Well, there's the bed upstairs. It's for you to decide." "What I don't want to do," explained Peter, sinking his voice to a confidential whisper, "is to make a fool of myself." "That's always a good rule," agreed Mrs. Postwhistle, "for those to whom it's possible." "Anyhow," said Peter, "one night can't do any harm. To-morrow we can think what's to be done." "To-morrow" had always been Peter's lucky day. At the mere mention of the magic date his spirits invariably rose. He now turned upon Tommy a countenance from which all hesitation was banished. "Very well, Tommy," said Mr. Peter Hope, "you can sleep here to-night. Go with Mrs. Postwhistle, and she'll show you your room." The black eyes shone. "You're going to give me a trial?" "We'll talk about all that to-morrow." The black eyes clouded. "Look here. I tell you straight, it ain't no good." "What do you mean? What isn't any good?" demanded Peter. "You'll want to send me to prison." "To prison!" "Oh, yes. You'll call it a school, I know. You ain't the first that's tried that on. It won't work." The bright, black eyes were flashing passionately. "I ain't done any harm. I'm willing to work. I can keep myself. I always have. What's it got to do with anybody else?" Had the bright, black eyes retained their expression of passionate defiance, Peter Hope might have retained his common sense. Only Fate arranged that instead they should suddenly fill with wild tears. And at sight of them Peter's common sense went out of the room disgusted, and there was born the history of many things.
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   6   7   8   9   10   11   12   13   14   15   16   17   18   19   20   21   22   23   24   25   26   27   28   29   30  
31   32   33   34   35   36   37   38   39   40   41   42   43   44   45   46   47   48   49   50   51   52   53   54   55   >>   >|  



Top keywords:
Postwhistle
 

morrow

 

Nobody

 

prison

 

bright

 

turned

 
things
 
explained
 

retained

 
common

suddenly

 

arranged

 
hesitation
 

countenance

 

spirits

 

invariably

 

history

 

banished

 
disgusted
 
school

passionately

 

flashing

 
demanded
 
clouded
 

defiance

 

expression

 

passionate

 
straight
 

whisper

 

Ammond


business

 

tumbling

 

Martini

 

troupe

 
Tights
 

clothes

 
ostwhistle
 

remember

 
leastways
 

indicating


garibaldi

 

Hammond

 

agreed

 
confidential
 

Anyhow

 

sinking

 

depended

 

wanted

 

called

 
upstairs