“Di—did we get them?” the little French girl demanded breathlessly.
“We did. And now we go to the window. We must pay there. The sale will be over in ten minutes. Ten more, and we’ll march away with our precious parcels from the big grab-bag. Tad will come for the lamps and the chair to-morrow.”
“Mine’s heavy.” Jeanne gave a little skip of joy as they entered the elevator twenty minutes later.
“So’s mine.” Merry’s tone did not echo her companion’s enthusiasm. “Don’t expect too much, you know. Blessed is he who expecteth nothing, for he shall not be disappointed! That’s not in the Bible, but it should have been.
“Your package may be full of old books and mine loaded with bricks. Old books come often enough, and I’ve seen broken bricks in a package, too.”
“Bricks!” Jeanne voiced her amazement. “Why would anyone send broken bricks by express?”
“They wouldn’t. But, you see, these packages are sent in from express offices everywhere. Not all of the agents are honest. If an agent is about to send in a nice mantel clock, slightly damaged, what’s to hinder his taking it out and replacing it with broken bricks? No one will be the wiser. If you or I buy the package, we get hooked, that’s all.”
“Bricks!” Jeanne said in disgust. “But then, mine is not full of bricks. This is my luckee day!”
“Here!” Merry pulled her into the shadow of a stairway. “We’ll unwrap them here. No one will see us.”
If Petite Jeanne’s hands trembled as she tore away the paper wrappings with the strange foreign labels, her whole body trembled and she appeared about to sink to the ground as she took one look at that which was within.