“Poor little child,” said the fair-haired girl with a sigh.
“He doesn’t look as if he had a diseased backbone,” said the red-haired girl.
“No,” said the dark-haired girl, “but some of these internal things don’t show.”
William walked jauntily. He hadn’t got his whistle, but he’d had quite an interesting morning.
******
It was Thursday evening. William crept up the drive again and walked round to the brown house.
“THERE!” SAID WILLIAM. “LOOK AT
THAT!” MR. MORGAN LOOKED AT IT,
WHILE HIS MOUTH AND EYES SLOWLY
OPENED AND HIS CHEEKS GREW PALE.
The windows of library and drawing-room were lit up. The drawing-room was apparently being used as a green room. Actors in various stages sat on chairs or sofa, or “made up” in front of the Venetian mirror. In the library the play was just beginning. An inhuman-looking bearded gentleman of obviously Communist persuasions, his face deeply—perhaps too deeply—scored by lines of cruelty and ill-temper, was sitting on the armchair, his boots on the table. A large red flag was planted beside him and the table was covered with a red flag. Brutal-looking soldiers held a shrinking prisoner in front of him. Other brutal-looking soldiers lounged about the room. The play was evidently just beginning. Neither Freddie nor any of the three girls were in this scene. William who had only a faint hope of recovering his whistle, but a very real curiosity as to the dress rehearsal, stood outside in the darkness, flattening his nose against the window. The brutal man in the chair was overacting—banging the table and shaking his fist and snarling and shouting—but this made it all the more thrilling to William. Then suddenly he heard the sound of wheels coming up the drive. Still impelled by curiosity, he crept round the house to see who it was. Then he stood amazed. It was the man in the mauve suit. He was descending from a taxi with his suit-case, and preparing to enter his front door. Then a glorious inspiration came to William. The taxi drove off but, before the owner of the house could enter his door, a small boy whom he could not see distinctly in the darkness darted forward and seized his arm.
“Don’t go in,” he whispered, “there’s danger.”