her small, shut teeth, “I am not going to do it; I will pretend this is part of a war.”

But there were hours when her child heart might almost have broken with loneliness but for three people.

The first, it must be owned, was Becky—just Becky. Throughout all that first night spent in the garret, she had felt a vague comfort in knowing that on the other side of the wall in which the rats scuffled and squeaked there was another young human creature. And during the nights that followed the sense


273 of 716

if you cry, you will be one, Lottie pet. You PROMISED.” Lottle remembered that she had promised, but she preferred to lift up her voice.

“I haven’t any mamma,” she proclaimed. “I haven’t—a bit—of mamma.”

“Yes, you have,” said Sara, cheerfully. “Have you forgotten? Don’t you know that Sara is your


273 of 1186