"No," replied the child. "She's fat and snores and won't have the window open—but—"
"But what?" Levine's voice was gentle.
"I'm afraid to sleep alone."
"Afraid? Lydia—not of any memory of dear little Patience!"
"No! No! but I have nightmares nearly every night—she—she's choking and I—I can't help her. Then I wake up and catch hold of Lizzie. Oh, don't make me sleep alone!"
"Why, my dear little girl—" John caught the child's thin hands in a firm, warm grip. She was trembling violently and her fingers twitched. "This won't do! That's what keeps the dark rings round your eyes, is it? Of course you shan't sleep alone! How does school go?"
"Fine," answered the child. "I hate grammar and diagramming, but the rest is easy."
"And what book are you reading now?"
"I'm starting 'David Copperfield.'"
"Here comes your father. It's bedtime, isn't it? Good night, my dear."