But there was nothing to do, but wait until the doctor
should come.
"Where had you been in those crazy clothes?" persisted Dan.
"I'd been to the carnival ball with Birdie Smelts," Nance blurted out. "I
didn't know it was going to be like that, but I might 'a' gone anyway. I
don't know. Oh, Dan, I was sick to death of being stuck away in that dark
hole, waiting for something to turn up. I told you how it was, but you
couldn't see it. I was bound to have a good time if I died for it!"
She dropped her head on her knees and sobbed unrestrainedly, while the
wind shrieked around the shanty, and the rain dashed against the
gradually lightening window-pane. After a while she flung back her head
defiantly.
"_Stop_ looking at me like that, Dan. Lots of girls go on the stage and
stay good."
"I wasn't thinking about the stage," said Dan. "I was thinking about
to-night. Who took you girls to that place?"
Nance dried her tears.
"I can't tell you that," she said uneasily.
"Why not?"
"It wouldn't be fair."
Dan felt the hot blood surge to his head, and the muscles of his hands
tighten involuntarily. He forgot Uncle Jed; he forgot to listen for the
doctor, or to worry about traffic that would soon be held up in the
street below. The only man in the world for him at that moment was the
scoundrel who had dared to take his little Nance into that infamous
dance hall.
Nance caught his arm and, with a quick gesture, dropped her head on it.
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