"Isn't it a beauty? Isn't it fine? Oh, why does it have to be raining, Ted, so I can't try it? Put me into the thing, Patrick. This floor is so large that I can see how it is going to work."
The story and even Theodora herself was forgotten, while the boy grasped the handles and rolled himself up and down the floor. For the moment, he was half beside himself with joy. It was as if his prison door suddenly had opened, after having been closed and barred for more than a year. After months of the stuffy couch, after months more of Patrick and the chair, it was good to be able to move himself about, once more. But he was weaker than he knew, and the excitement was more than he had the strength to endure. Theodora, who had been watching him, saw him grow a little white around the mouth.
"Take me out, Patrick," he said wearily. "I sha'n't run away, to-day. I think, if you don't mind, I'll get back on the lounge again."
Theodora lingered beside him until he was his usual bright self once more. Then she started for home. Allyn met her on the steps.
"Tum in," he said imperiously.
"What for?"
"'Cause. Hope said I wasn't to tell."
"Tell what?"
"Sumfin's here."
"What kind of a sumfin, Allyn? Wait till sister gets her mackintosh off."