Stranica 210 [210]
190 LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY.
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It was the picture of a handsome woman, with large eyes and
heavy braids of black hair wound around her head.
“Her!” said Dick. ‘My, I know her better n I know you!”
The young man began to laugh.
‘Where did you meet her, Dick?” he said. "At Newport? Or
when you ran over to Paris the last time?”
Dick actually forgot to grin. He began to gather his brushes
and things together, as if he had something to do which would put
an end to his business for the present.
‘“ Never mind,” he said. “I know her! An Í "ve struck work
for this mornin’.” |
And in less than five minutes from that time he was tearing
through the streets on his way to Mr. Hobbs and the corner store.
Mr. Hobbs could scarcely believe the evidence of his senses when
he looked across the counter and saw Dick rush in with the paper
in his hand. The boy was out of breath with running; so much
out of breath, in fact, that he could scarcely speak as he threw the
paper down on the counter.
“Hello!” exclaimed Mr. Hobbs. “Hello! What you got
there?”
“Look at it!” panted Dick. "Look at that woman in the pict¬
ure! ‘That’s what you look at! Sze aint no ’ristocrat, s/e aint!”
with withering scorn. "She s no lord’s wife. You may eat me,
if it aint Minna—J/zznua/ I d know her anywheres, an’ so ’d Ben.
Jest ax him.”
Mr. Hobbs dropped into his seat.
"I knowed it was a put-up job,” he said. “1 knowed it; and they
done it on account o him bein’ a ‘Merican !
. § Done it!” cried Dick, with disgust. ‘Se done it, that s who
done it. She was allers up to her tricks; an’ I II tell yer wot come
to me, the minnit I saw her pictur. There was one o them papers we