But Mrs. Chaplin and Letty had gone to a meeting at the mission room, and as Chaplin was often out until nine or ten o'clock now, Winny was all alone.
Finding this was the case, Annie stole in, and Winny, looking at her, was almost frightened at the change she saw. The girl looked almost savage in her wildness.
"Oh, Annie, wouldn't you like to go into the country for a bit, just to see the green fields?" said Winny hardly knowing what she said.
"What's the good of asking me that?" said the girl fiercely. "I'm more likely to go to prison again, for I hate everybody and everything now."
"No, no, Annie, you must not do that, for see, people have thought about you, and I have got a ticket for you to go into the country next week, and you can stay for a fortnight too."
Annie stared. "Do you mean it, Winny Chaplin?" she asked solemnly.
To have a ticket for this country holiday would be to rehabilitate her in public opinion, to wipe out the disgrace of her imprisonment, and she clutched Winny's hand and looked into her eyes as if she would read her very soul.
"Look here, Winny," she said, "if that could be true, I think I could believe in God, though he does let men like Rutter get rich and people like you be poor. I could believe he cared for me a little bit, if he'd let me go away for a bit like that, for I could come back then and go to my work again."
"You shall believe it, Annie, for you shall go," said Winny in an earnest tone.
And then Annie dropped her head upon the fragile shoulder and burst into such a passionate flood of tears that Winny was fairly frightened. And Brown, who had stood near the door scratching his head in perplexity, now came forward to comfort his "little un," but hardly knew what to say, for both girls were sobbing together, Winny dimly understanding how her companion felt, and grieving for the uncontrolled passion that could drive a girl into the commission of a crime that brought such a punishment.