And it's too far away--it's a
dreadful way away. We can never go home. I daresay Grandpapa and
Grandmamma and everybody's dead by now," concluded Duke, who talked with
a sort of reckless composure sometimes, altogether too much for Pamela,
who burst into tears.
"Oh bruvver!" she cried between her sobs, "don't talk like that. I
_fink_ God's too good to have let dear Grandpapa and Grandmamma die. And
us has said our prayers such many many times about going home. I'm sure
Grandpapa would never put Mick in prison if us asked him not, and p'raps
if Mick was sure of that he'd take us home. Oh don't you fink us might
go and ask him," and she started up.
"Us can't promise it; Grandpapa'd _have_ to do it. It'd be his _dooty_,"
said Duke sternly--his ideas on all subjects were very grim at
present--"he'd have to stop Mick going and stealing away other children
like he did us. And Diana said us mustn't speak to _nobody_ about what
she told us."
"I don't care about it if it isn't that us is going home," said Pamela,
crying quietly. "I don't care about gold frocks like fairies and all
that if dear Grandmamma and Grandpapa can't see us."
Duke looked at her gloomily.
"P'raps Diana meant us'd soon be going to heaven," he said at last. "I
heard them saying us'd 'not stand it long,' and I know that means going
to die.
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