Also, when
she was batting she would pause though the ball was in the air to
point out to you that she was wearing new shoes. She was quite the
ordinary kind in the daytime.
But as the shades of night fell, Tony, the swaggerer, lost his
contempt for Maimie and eyed her fearfully, and no wonder, for with
dark there came into her face a look that I can describe only as a
leary look. It was also a serene look that contrasted grandly with
Tony's uneasy glances. Then he would make her presents of his
favourite toys (which he always took away from her next morning) and
she accepted them with a disturbing smile. The reason he was now
become so wheedling and she so mysterious was (in brief) that they
knew they were about to be sent to bed. It was then that Maimie was
terrible. Tony entreated her not to do it to-night, and the mother
and their coloured nurse threatened her, but Maimie merely smiled her
agitating smile. And by-and-by when they were alone with their
night-light she would start up in bed crying "Hsh! what was that?"
Tony beseeches her! "It was nothing--don't, Maimie, don't!" and pulls
the sheet over his head. "It is coming nearer!" she cries; "Oh, look
at it, Tony! It is feeling your bed with its horns--it is boring for
you, oh, Tony, oh!" and she desists not until he rushes downstairs in
his combinations, screeching. When they came up to whip Maimie they
usually found her sleeping tranquilly, not shamming, you know, but
really sleeping, and looking like the sweetest little angel, which
seems to me to make it almost worse.
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