“I wish I could tell somebody,” Phœbe insisted. “Because I—I feel awfully bad. I think it’s my conscience.”
But Sophie shook her head. “If they find out about us,” she argued, “just remember this: They can’t fire you. So don’t you worry.”
“I won’t,” answered Phœbe. But her face was pale with apprehension. “And, anyhow, I’ve seen three wonderful five-reelers.”
But when she was alone, and the light was out, she, too, broke down. “I deserve to be punished,” she confessed. “I said I wouldn’t go again, and I broke my word.” She dropped to her knees beside the bed.
She prayed for her mother to ask God to take her. “I’m discouraged,” she complained. “Oh, Mother, I want to come to you. Everything I like to do is bad in this house!” She recalled a day when Uncle John had been most displeased with her because, with an eye to harmonious color, she had rearranged the books in the library, putting the green-backed ones on one shelf, the red-backed ones on another.
Now, so real was her contrition and her fear, that not once as she knelt did it occur to her that what she had done, and what she was suffering, was in any way like a “movie”.
She lay down at last, but with eyes wide and staring into the dark. It was one thing to steal away at night to the movies with Sophie, shoes in hand till the back steps were gained, giggles restrained till the rear gate was left behind, spirits high because of what the theatre promised of dear delight, the whole thing a thrilling adventure: it was another matter to face out the escapade in the full light of morning.
Oh, the dread of it! For of course Mrs. Botts would tell. Then, what? There would be bitter blame on the part of Uncle John. He would blame Sophie most (which was a comforting thought!). But Sophie was grown. Sophie was free. Sophie could be saucy, if she wanted to, and could pack up, and leave, her earnings in her purse. But Phœbe would have to stay; to face it out at the table; to live it down in shame.
“O-o-oh!” breathed Phœbe. She wrestled with despair.
A clock downstairs rang the hours until three. Then, exhausted, she slept—and in her sleep fought Mrs. Botts hand to hand.