“Yes—yes I see.” Cherry swallowed hard.
“The radio,” Miss Meeks murmured. “Now I shouldn’t wonder. Will you sing for them, Miss Ramsey?”
Cherry nodded.
From somewhere a small piano was made to appear. A little Irish girl with a tumbled mass of red hair took her place before it. A small platform—a heavy packing box—was placed beside the piano.
After shedding her heavy coat, Cherry stood before her strange audience. All lovely in gold and blue, she caught their eyes at once. Leaning over, she whispered to the girl at the piano, giving her the name of her first song. The social worker clapped her hands for silence. Deep, appreciative silence followed.
“Miss Ramsey, a friend of Lady Applegate, from Dorset way, will sing to us,” Miss Meeks announced. “Let’s give her a hand.” The applause was tumultuous.
Somehow, a light, not too strong, was made to play on the slender girl as she sang.
“In the gloaming, Oh my darling,
When the lights are dim and low.”
She sang the song through to the end. The applause that followed drowned out the sound of exploding bombs.