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Demry," as he had come to be called, had played for her to dance, Nance had camped on his door-step. Whenever the scrape of his fiddle was heard from below, she dropped whatever she held, whether it was a hot iron or the baby, and never stopped until she reached the ground floor.
Demry, clinging to the one fact he had trained his mind to remember. "If you will kindly get me to the corner, the children will " "It's too late to do anything!" cried Mrs. Clarke, wringing her hands. "I knew something terrible would happen to him. I pleaded with them to help me find him, but they put me off. Then I got so absorbed in Mac that he drove everything else out of my mind.
Demry and patiently tried to explain that she was spending the night with Birdie Smelts; he remembered Birdie used to live across the hall from him? She was coming home in the morning. She would explain everything to Mrs. Snawdor. She promised she would. Mr. Demry, partly reassured, relaxed his grasp. "Who is this young man, Nancy?" he asked childishly. "Tell me his name." "It's Mr.
She bit it and scratched it and even spat upon it. Had Mrs. Snawdor or Uncle Jed been there, the catastrophe would never have happened; but Mrs. Snawdor was at the post-office, and Uncle Jed at the signal tower, and the feeble protests of Mr. Demry were as futile as the twittering of a sparrow.
They'll be havin' me down with smallpox next. How long you goin' to be here?" Nance, taking off her hat and coat, announced that she had come to stay. Mrs. Snawdor heaved a sigh of relief. "Well, if you'll sorter keep a eye on him, I believe I'll step down an' set with Mis' Smelts fer a spell. I ain't been off the place fer two days." "But wait a minute! Where's Uncle Jed? And Mr. Demry?"
Demry, with his besetting sin and his beautiful influence on every child with whom he came in contact? Was Mr. Clarke, working children under age in the factory to build up a great fortune for his son, very different from Mr. Lavinski, with his sweat-shop, hoarding pennies for the ambitious Ikey? Was Mrs. Clarke, shirking her duty to her father, any happier or any better than Mrs.
"Demry Never mind, I just missed the step. I'm quite all right. I think I will go with you to see this this house they are talking about." "But it's in the alley. Mrs. Clarke; it's awfully dirty." "Yes, yes, but I'm coming. Can we go through here?"
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