The Blood Red Dawn
, but time had drawn the sting from the misfortune of the old days. Through the mist of the years outlines softened, and she was more prone to measure the resu
ore the eventful day in the shape of a ten-dollar bill tucked away in the folds of Gertrude Sinclair's annual letter to Mrs. Robson. As Claire had grown older she had grown also impatient of the memory of her mother squandering what should have gone for thick shoes and warm plaid dresses upon the ephemeral joys of a Christmas tree. But now she suddenly understood, and she felt gl
th a curious fascination of stale cigars and staler beer, and the thrill that the appearance of the orchestra produced, followed by the arrival of all the important personages fortunate enough to afford fifty-cent seats, which gave them the security to put off their appearance until the curtain was almost ready to rise. And when the curtain really did rise upon the inevitable spectacle of villagers dancing upon the village green! And Mrs. Robson carefully picked out in the chorus the stout sister of a former servant who had worked for her mother! And the wicked old witch swept from the wings on the traditional broomstick! From that moment until the final transformation scene, when scintillating sea-shells yielded up one by
he Tivoli, Claire, if I were you ... unle
ll the participants in the pantomime must of necessity be rather wicked and abandoned creatures, and half the pleasure she had felt in viewing them arose from a secret admiration at the courage which permitted human beings to be so perfectly and
aire was not yet inured to the novelty of being in demand. To have been forced by circumstance upon Mrs. Condor as an accompanist was one thing; to be desired by her in a moment of cold calculation was quite another; and there had been more uncertainty than caution in Claire's plea for time in which to consider the offer. But as the days flew by it became more and more apparent to Claire that she was in no position to indulge in idle speculation. She had long since given up the hope of fulfilling the demands of a regular office position, even if one had been open to her. Mrs. Finnegan's enthusiasm to be neighborly and helpful was more a matter of theory than practice, and it did not take Claire many days to decide that
how is your mother? I keep asking Ned Stillman every day what the news is, but he never knows anything. All men are alike ... unless they've got some special interest. Sometimes I marvel that he looks me up so regularly, but then I've known him ever since...
to turn an easy dollar or two and she had no one to thank but
rt any further repinings. Claire was frankly glad to see her a
in a wrap that showed every evi
imal. Somebody else copped it. I didn't shove it back far enough the last time I took a
he hall gas, when she felt her friend's hand close over hers. There followed the cold pressure of s
xtra money, Robson,
t. "Why, Nellie Whitehead, how could you?
self she found that Nellie Whitehead had escaped. She lit the gas and
from Mrs. Condor. The position of accompanist was
nearly every night. And then again there won't be anything doing for days.... How can I af
ame another surprise for Claire in the s
m going to take a little
recognizing the commodity when the sack is opened. Do you fancy you could arrange to gi
dia
D STI
laire's mind, "he's going in
made an appointment with Stillman, in his apartments,