likes…he liked…Dan, and urged me to go. It was a little after six when I returned.
"'A present came for the kid while you were out, Mollie,' he said. 'It's another doll. I'll bet Tom sent it.'
Tom is my brother.
"There was a big box on the table, and I lifted the lid. In it was the most life-like doll imaginable. A
perfect thing. A little girl-doll. Not a baby-doll, but a doll like a child about ten or twelve years old.
Dressed like a schoolgirl, with her books strapped, and over her shoulder-only about a foot high, but
perfect. The sweetest face-a face like a little angel. John said: 'It was addressed to you, Mollie, but I
thought it was flowers and opened it. Looks as though it could talk, doesn't it? I'll bet it's what they call a
portrait-doll. Some kid posed for that, all right.' At that, I was sure Tom had sent it, because he had
given little Mollie one doll before, and a friend of mine who's…whose dead…gave her one from the same