How long I sat there, paralized with emotion, I do not
know. Hannah came out and roused me from my Trance of grief. She
is a kindly soul, although to afraid of mother to be helpful.
"Come in like a good girl, Miss Bab," she said. "There's
that fruit salad that cook prides herself on, and I'll ask her
to brown a bit of sweetbread for you."
"Hannah," I said in a low voice, "there is a Crime being
committed in this neighborhood, and you talk to me of food."
"Good gracious, Miss Bab!"
"I cannot tell you any more than that, Hannah," I said
gently, "because it is only being done now, and I cannot make up
my Mind about it. But of course I do not want any food."
As I say, I was perfectly gentle with her, and I do not
understand why she burst into tears and went away.
I sat and thought it all over. I could not leave, under the
circumstances. But yet, what was I to do? It was hardly a Police
matter, being between friends, as one may say, and yet I simply
could not bare to leave my Ideal there in that damp bath-house
without either food or, as one may say, raiment.
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