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But Billy plucked at the speaker's sleeve. "Wait a minute, Fatty," he urged. "Anson's up there asleep, an' he's goin' to have a wakin' nightmare in about four seconds. I jest heard Ma goin' up." "You have stolen me from my home, sir," she exclaimed in a piteous, almost whining voice, "and I am without clothes except the dress that I am wearing, and they will soon be in rags, which will flutter if I begin to dance." The girl's eyes grew wider and wider with wonderment. "Isn't it strange?" she half whispered, "and beautiful?".
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Conrad
Anson looked troubled. "Supposin' I don't know—" he began, but Billy shook his head. "All ready but cappin'. Now, where's the flock?" Maurice squirmed. "It seemed a lot longer than two weeks," he said faintly. "What time this morning did Miss Lucy leave the house?".
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