"But I can't eat this, can
you, sister?"
Pamela looked up--she had got a small bone in her fingers, at which she
was trying to nibble.
"I'm pretending to be Toby eating a bone," she said gravely. "Sometimes
it makes it seem nicer."
"_I_ don't think so," said Duke. "It only makes it worser to think of
Toby," and his voice grew very doleful, as if he were going to cry.
"Now don't, bruvver," said Pamela. "Let's think of what Diana said."
"What was it?" said Duke. "Say it again."
"'Twas that, p'raps, if us was very good and did just ezactly what her
tells us, us'd go somewhere soon, where us'd be _very_ happy," said
Pamela. "Where do you fink it can be, Duke? Us mustn't tell _nobody_,
not even Tim; but I don't mind, for Diana said she thought Tim'd go too.
Do you fink she meant" (and here poor little Pam, who had learnt
unnatural caution already, glanced round her--as if any one could have
been hidden in the small space of the van!--and lowered her
voice)--"that she meant us was to go _home_ again to dear Grandmamma and
Grandpapa?"
Duke shook his head.
"No," he said, "they'll never send us home now. Mick'd be put in prison
if he took us home. I know that. I heard what they was saying about it
one day when they didn't know I was there.
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