When she saw that—wasn’t it a strange thing for her to do— she put her face down upon the page and burst into tears.
“I don’t know who it is,” she said; “but somebody cares for me a little. I have a friend.”
She took her candle and stole out of her own room and into Becky’s, and stood by her bedside.
“Becky, Becky!” she whispered as loudly as she dared. “Wake up!”
When Becky wakened, and she sat upright staring aghast, her face still smudged with traces of tears, beside her stood a little figure
on the seat in order to feel the cushions spring under her, he saw Sara standing on the wet pavement in her shabby frock and hat, with her old basket on her arm, looking at him hungrily.
He thought that her eyes looked hungry because she had perhaps had nothing to eat for a long time. He did not know