g
that Hans had; something that Mother Duda touched--a square something--I
had just caught a glimpse of it in Mother Duda's hand when the room flew
into a wreck and I became what I am now."

"Dynamite," murmured Ransom; then paused and had a small struggle with
his heart, for she was looking up into his face, demanding sympathy with
Georgian's eyes; and being close together on the short seat, he could not
help but feel her shudders and share the intense excitement which choked
her.

"Oh," she cried, as he laid his hand a moment on her arm and then took it
away again, "one minute to hear! the next to find the world all still,
always still,--a poor girl--not knowing how to read or write! But you
cannot care about that; you cannot care about me. It's sister you want
to hear about, how she came to find me; how we came here for new and
terrible things to happen; always for new and terrible things to happen
which I don't understand.

"Hans never came back. All sorts of policemen came into the house,
doctors came, priests came, but no Hans. Mother Duda was buried, I rode
in a coach at the funeral, but still no Hans. The old life was over, and
when the food was all gone from the shelves, I took my little basket and
went out, not meaning to come back again. And I did not. I sold my basket
out; got a handful of pennies and went to the market to get something to
eat. Then I went into a park, where there were benches, and sat down to
rest. I did not know of any place to go to and began to cry, when a lady
stopped before me, and I looked up and saw myself.

"I thought I was dreaming or had the fever again, as when I was sick with
my ear, and I thought it was myself as I would look in heaven, for she
had such beautiful clothes on and looked so happy. But when she talked, I
could see her lips move and I couldn't hear; and I knew that I was just
in the park with my empty basket and my onion and bread, and that the
lady was a lady and no one I knew, only so like what I had seen of myself
in the glass that I was shaking all over, and she was shaking all over,
and neither of us could look away. And still her lips moved, and seeing
her at last look frightened and angry that I didn't answer, I spoke and
said that I was deaf; that I was very sorry that I couldn't hear because
we looked so much alike, though she was a great lady and I was a very,
very poor girl who hadn't any home or any friends, or anything to wear or
eat but what she sa