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Kipling, Rudyard, 1865-1936

"From Mine Own People"

And Bessie was exceedingly careful of the condition of Torpenhow's
linen. She spoke very little to him, but sometimes they talked together on the
landing.
"I was a great fool," Dick said to himself. "I know what red firelight looks
like when a man's tramping through a strange town; and ours is a lonely,
selfish sort of life at the best. I wonder Maisie doesn't feel that sometimes.
But I can't order Bessie away. That's the worst of beginning things. One never
knows where they stop."
One evening, after a sitting prolonged to the last limit of the light, Dick was
roused from a nap by a broken voice in Torpenhow's room. He jumped to his feet.
"Now what ought I to do? It looks foolish to go in.--Oh, bless you, Binkie!"
The little terrier thrust Torpenhow's door open with his nose and came out to
take possession of Dick's chair. The door swung wide unheeded, and Dick across
the landing could see Bessie in the half-light making her little supplication
to Torpenhow. She was kneeling by his side, and her hands were clasped across
his knee.
"I know,--I know," she said thickly. "'Tisn't right 'o me to do this, but I
can't help it; and you were so kind,--so kind; and you never took any notice 'o
me. And I've mended all your things so carefully,--I did.


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