That sounds pretty serious."
"It is serious. Whether I ought to have spoken or not."
_"I_ tell you, you ought to have spoken. It was--brave of you. That's
the way I always think of you, Miss Child, being brave--whatever
happens. And laughing."
"I don't laugh now."
"Not at other people's troubles--I know. But you would at your own."
"I'm not thinking of my own. To-day of all days!"
He wondered what she meant. His mind flashed swiftly back to last
night and all that had happened. He could have kissed the hem of her
black dress to see her here, safe and vital enough to fling reproaches
at him for his sins--of omission. Yet he must stand coldly discussing
grievances. No, "coldly" was not the word. No word could have been
less appropriate to the boiling emotions under Peter Rolls's grave,
composed manner.
He let the baffling sentence go--a sentence which framed thoughts of
Sadie Kirk.
"I should like to hear from you the specific wrongs you want righted,"
he said. "I know a girl of your sort wouldn't speak vaguely. You _do_
mean something specific."
"Yes--I do."
"Then tell me--now."
"You came to buy a cloak for your mother.
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