“That ragged little girl with the broom,” said Molly. “Generally she has a basket, and goes to the basement doors to ask for things to eat.”
“How do you know she’s been stolen? Did she tell you so?”
“No, we’ve never spoken to her, but we think she must have been. She’s got blue eyes and golden hair, just like all the stolen children in books, and once we saw her crying. It was when the Van Arsdales’ cook slammed the basement gate in her face. We were dreadfully sorry, but we couldn’t do anything about it. Grandma never lets Bridget give anything to beggars. Dulcie has made up some wonderful stories about the stolen child.”
“I don’t see how you can be sure she’s been stolen,” said Paul, sceptically. “Any girl might cry if she was hungry and a cook slammed a gate in her face. I don’t see why you don’t speak to her and find out.”
“We never had a chance to speak to her,” said Dulcie. “We’ve only seen her from the window.”
“You can speak to her now,” said Paul, who was fond of getting to the bottom of things. “She’s right here, and we’re right here, too. If she really has been stolen, and we can find her family, we may get a big reward. You know they offered a tremendous reward for Charlie Ross. This one’s only a girl, so perhaps they wouldn’t pay as much for her, but families are always awfully glad to get back a stolen child. I’ve just been reading about one in a French book, and the father built a hospital, to show his gratitude. Come on, let’s speak to the little girl right away.”
Dulcie’s heart beat rather fast, and Molly was conscious of a little thrill of excitement, as they approached the small crossing-sweeper.
“She’s rather dirty,” whispered Molly. “I thought stolen children were always very clean.”
“Not always,” Dulcie reassured her. “They can’t help being dirty sometimes, when there isn’t any place to wash. She’d be very pretty if her face was clean, and her hair wasn’t so tangled.”
As the three children paused at the crossing, “the stolen child” looked up and held out a small dirty hand.