Purdy and possibly of Miss Stanley? Not that she
was afraid of their stopping her. She repeated to herself the words of
defiance with which she would meet their objections and the scorn which
she would fling at their "nice girl jobs." No; it was Dan himself she was
afraid of. Her imagination quailed before his strong, silent face, and
his deep, hurt eyes. She had always taken Dan's part in everything, and
something told her she would take it now, even against herself.
The only safe course was to keep away from him, until the great step was
taken, and then write him a nice long letter. The nicest she had ever
written to anybody. Dear old Dan--dear, dear old Dan.
A long, low whistle from the sidewalk opposite made her start, and look
down. At first no one was visible; then a match was struck, flared yellow
for a second, and went out, and again that low, significant whistle.
Nance dropped on her knees beside the window and watched. A man's figure
emerged from the gloom and crossed the street. A moment later she heard
the ringing of the doorbell. Could Dan have heard of her escapade and
come after her? But nobody knew where she was; the note to Mrs. Snawdor
still lay on the corner of the dresser.
She heard a step on the stairs, then three light taps on the door. She
scrambled to her feet before she remembered Birdie's caution, then stood
motionless, listening.
Again the taps and, "I say, Bird!" came in a vibrant whisper from
without.
It seemed to Nance that whoever it was must surely hear the noisy
beating of her heart.
Pages:
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182