"Sometimes one 'as to do things one can't do," was Giles's next rather difficult remark.
"But this is really silly," said Ronald, "for we can do the things we can do."
"Course not—not by ourselves," said Giles. "But if we're to endure to the end, why, 'E'll help."
"You remind me of that awful fire," said Ronald.
He jumped up and walked across the room. His eyes were dim; his heart was beating with great rapidity, for he was still weak and had gone through much. Oh, that cruel, cruel old man who had made his mother cry so often! He thought upon him with a growing terror.
Connie looked at Ronald, and then she glanced at Giles and her eyes said to Giles:
"Help me all you can about Ronald." Then Giles called her to him.
"Leave Ronald with me for a bit," he said. "Go back and tell Mrs. Anderson; but leave little Ronald with me."
Connie immediately went out; but Ronald was so absorbed in trying to quiet his beating heart, and in trying to recover his courage, that he did not even know when she closed the door after her.
Connie ran as quickly as she could all the way to Carlyle Terrace. There she rang a loud peal at the front door. It was Mrs. Anderson herself who opened it to her.