"Jimmy," I said, "come here." I drew him to the window with nervous
haste, my fingers twitching, my breath unsteady. "Who is that girl
with the baby? There she is, turning the corner. Look quick! Do
you know her?"
Jimmy shook his head. "Never saw her. Can't see her now." He
leaned far out the window, but the girl had disappeared, and the
woman in the doorway had gone in and closed the door.
I must have said something, made some sort of sound, for Jimmy,
turning from the window, looked at me uneasily, in his eyes distress
and understanding.
"What's the matter, Miss Heath? You'd better sit down. Did the heat
make you sick? You're--you're whiter than that wall."
CHAPTER XI
A sickness which Jimmy could not understand was indeed upon me, and
unsteadily I leaned against the window-frame, looking at, but not
seeing, him, and not until he spoke again did I remember I was not
alone.
"Is it very bad? You look as if it hurts so. Wait a minute--I'll
get you some water."
I caught him as he started to run down the hall, and drew him back.
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