Then, of a sudden, at the ribbon counter she caught sight of her hands.
“Such hands!” she whispered. “There never were others like them. It is the Lady of the Christmas Spirit.”
Putting out her own hand, she grasped one of the marvelous ones as she whispered: “You are the Lady of the Christmas Spirit.”
At once there came a mighty jingle of gold. A perfect shower of gold went sparkling and tinkling to the floor.
“Oh! Oh!—Oh! It will all be lost!” she cried, leaping forward.
She leaped almost into the delicatessen keeper’s arms. To her surprise she saw that the store was empty. Her day-dream had ended in a real dream; she had fallen asleep.
Hastily collecting her scattered senses, she selected a steaming pot of beans and a generous cylinder of brown bread, then drawing her scarf about her, dashed out into the night.
CHAPTER XIV
THE NEWSPAPER PICTURE
Lucile may have been dreaming, but Cordie was wide awake and thinking hard. The instant Lucile had closed the door behind her she had spread one of the papers she had bought out before her and, having opened it at page 3, sat down to look at a picture reproduced there.
For a full two minutes she sat staring at it.