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Updated: June 8, 2025
"What made me change was Miss Arundel's kindness. She came and begged you off. She said you hadn't done anything or said anything to frighten her, that you'd been" Sylvester drawled out the two words in the sing-song of Western mockery "'sweet and love-ly." Dickie's face was pink. He began to tie a knot in the corner of one of his thin gray sheet-blankets.
Dickie's hands were in his pockets, but his eyes followed the gyrations of the paper. "No. Ain't that a funny thing, too? Seems like I never get round to it. I just saw her peeping at me one day through the parlor curtains while I was saying sweet nothings to Girlie on the porch. I guess she was kind of in-ter-ested. She's skinny and pale, Girlie says. Your mother hasn't got any use for her.
The stars were pin-pricks here and there in the dense sky. The city flaunted its easy splendor triumphantly before their pallid insignificance. Tarnished purities, forgotten ecstasies, burned-out inspirations so the city shouted raucously to its faded firmament. Dickie's fingers slid into his pocket. The moon had reminded him of his one remaining dime.
Still, in his present humour, Dickie's sense of noblesse oblige was strong. "I suppose I've got to go in and help entertain everybody," he remarked. "Her ladyship'll think something's wrong, Sir Richard, and be anxious if you stay away." The boy held out his arms. "All right then, Winter," he said. Here Chaplin again gave that admonitory cough.
"Hush, Dickie! you have exploded enough to-night. Don't say that to Mrs. Leason!" Her world appeared to her that night a harlequin tangle, and, above all, meaningless yes, dispiritedly without sense. John, somehow, seemed displeased with her, as if she were responsible for Dickie's breaks. She laughed again as she thought of the sow story, and the way the women took it.
So he covered the top of his house with moss, leaving a hole right under the eaves, for a doorway. When Dickie's home was done he was so pleased with it that he asked all his neighbors if they didn't like his "improvements," as he called the additions he had made. And all his Deer Mouse relations told him that he certainly had a fine place.
"I'll stay here," she said, and Gregory hurried off. When he came back he shook his head. "Gone," he announced. "Washed off?" "Don't think so. The water hadn't quite got to where we left them. I guess they sneaked." Dickie's eyes searched the sea while he spoke. "I can't understand what is keeping the boys from the Curlew," she said.
The dewy grass felt pleasantly cool and clean to Dickie's tired little foot, and when they crossed the road where a water-cart had dripped it was delicious to feel the cool mud squeeze up between your toes. That was charming; but it was pleasant, too, to wash the mud off on the wet grass. Dickie always remembered that moment. It was the first time in his life that he really enjoyed being clean.
Luckily a crust had formed upon the snow a crust that was just strong enough to support Dickie's weight. And he made swiftly for the spruce woods, to hunt for his supper, for he knew he could find nothing on the ground, covered as it was by the snow. Dickie felt even hungrier than he usually did when starting out of an evening to look for something to eat.
The clothes they wore were clean; the food they ate was good. Dickie's knowledge of an ordered life in a great house helped him to order life in a house that was little. And day by day they earned their living. The new life was fairly started. And now Dickie felt that he might dare to go back through the three hundred years to all that was waiting for him there.
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