Becky run in her slipshod shoes up the stairs and into her attic. They heard her door shut, and knew that she threw herself upon her bed.
“I could ‘ave e’t two of ‘em,” they heard her cry into her pillow. “An’ I never took a bite. ‘Twas cook give it to her policeman.”
Sara stood in the middle of the room in the darkness. She was clenching her little teeth and opening and shutting fiercely her outstretched hands. She could scarcely stand still, but she dared not move until Miss Minchin had gone down the stairs and all was still.
looked so queer and so like a gray-whiskered dwarf or gnome that Sara was rather fascinated. He looked at her with his bright eyes, as if he were asking a question. He was evidently so doubtful that one of the child’s queer thoughts came into her mind.
“I dare say it is rather hard to be a rat,” she