Bobbie scrambled up because he was made to. He uttered a frightened, terrified cry.
Then, “Jinnie!” he gasped.
Jinnie saw Morse shake the slender little body and drop into a chair, dragging the child forward. Bobbie could no longer speak. The dazed girl knew the little heart was beating in its very worst terror. She couldn’t bear the sight and closed her eyes for an instant. When she opened them, Morse’s hand was raised above the boy’s golden head, but she caught it in hers before it descended.
“I’ll do it,” she managed to whisper. “Look! Look! You’ve killed him.”
In another moment she had Bobbie in her arms, his face pressed against her breast.
“Get out of here!” she said, deathly white, to Morse. “I’ll do it, come back to-morrow.”
And Morse was glad to escape.
After Jinnie brought Bobbie to his senses and he lay like a crumpled leaf on the divan, she took up the hated letter. She sat down to read it once more.
It was short, concise, and to the point. 315