These rooms thrilled her. They were her
first material evidence that she was now actually launched upon her
great adventure.
Maggie had dinner in her sitting-room with Old Jimmie and Miss
Grierson--and of that dinner, mediocre and sloppy, and chilled by its
transit of twelve stories from the kitchen, Miss Grierson, by way of
an introductory lesson, made an august function, almost diagrammatic
in its educational details. After the dinner, with Miss Grierson's
slow and formal aid, which consisted mainly in passages impressively
declaimed from her private book of decorum, Maggie spent two hours in
unpacking her suitcase and trunk, and repacking her scanty wardrobe in
drawers of the chiffonier and dressing-table; a task which Maggie,
left to herself, could have completed in ten minutes.
Maggie was still at this task in her bedroom when she heard Barney
enter her sitting-room. "He got away," she heard him say in a low
voice to Old Jimmie.
She slipped quickly out of her bedroom and closed the door behind her.
An undefined something had suddenly begun to throb within her.
"Who got away, Barney?" she demanded in a hushed tone.
Her look made Barney think rapidly. He was good at quick thinking, was
Barney. He decided to tell the truth--or part of it.
Pages:
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149