Felicia sat down on the edge of the Wheezy's bed. Her eyes were shining. Mrs. Sperry had come back and was sitting by the Wheezy's window. It seemed that they shared the room. She was staring animatedly at her room-mate's visitor. From the opened door into the corridor Felicia could glimpse other old ladies, peeping in curiously, hovering about like gray moths at twilight.
She smiled at them wistfully, as she was wont to smile at Grandy, with her heart in her eyes.
"We're going to pretend something," she called to them softly, "Would you like to pretend? We're going to pretend I'm a little girl in a back yard who has been hearing Marthy sing—Marthy sings a song called Billy Boy about a boy who had been courting. She used to say, in the song, 'Where have you been, Billy Boy, Billy Boy—Where have you been, charming Billy?' I can't sing but you shall hear me whistle it—"
The little gray moths of women crept closer, some of them fluttered into the Wheezy's room. The twilight grew deeper and deeper, and on the edge of the Wheezy's bed sat little Miss By-the-day and whistled the songs that Marthy used to sing. "Churry Ripe—Churry Ripe—" and "Ever of thee I am fondly dreaming—"
She whistled until some one came down the corridor to light the lights. The Wheezy's bony hand was on hers, the Wheezy's tears were falling.
"Why under the shining canopy I didn't know who you was—" she muttered apologetically, "My soul, I guess it's because I can't half see!"
"No, it's because—" Felicia sighed, "I'm not really that little girl any more. Only the Happy Part of her is here—" she put her hand on her breast. "I'm really old—like Grandy—like Piqueur. I can see vairee well. I saw myself—" she paused, "in a mirror, you know, I was that surprised—" she managed to laugh a little. "But Wheezy dear, there's a man who has to know that I am Felicia Day. Will you tell him that you know I am?"
The Wheezy promised eagerly. And then Felicia whistled a while longer, because one little gray moth, more daring than the rest wanted to hear,
"I remember, I remember in the years long passed away,
A little maid and I would meet beside the stream to play-"
Her quavering voice recited the verses, while Felicia whistled, oh, so softly!