"And you're not going to get anything else," said Ramsey, snatching the
lad's hands and finding them cold.
He moaned in unbelief: "What do you know about it? Oh, sis', if I could
only die doing some fine thing!--in a fight!--or an explosion!--anything
but a deathbed!"
"Law'! honey," interposed old Joy, "what you want to do fine things faw?
You's done got religion. You on'y ain't got peace. Come to de bishop.
Gawd won't let a religious enquireh kitch noth'n'. I 'uz tellin' de
bishop 'bout missy an' you, bofe gitt'n' religion 'istiddy, an' he say,
s'e: 'Go, fetch yo' young missy; fetch bofe.'"
"We'll go!" said Ramsey before the willing boy could reply, though from
every side came protests.
For once Hugh and the twins were in accord. "You must not!" called Hugh.
"You shall not!" said Julian.
She glanced from one to the other, tinkling her prettiest, and suddenly
flushed. "We will!"
The twins sent Hugh a hot look which he paid back with a cold one, while
Mrs. Gilmore said:
"I'll have to go with you, Ramsey."
For one breath the girl was taken aback, but then:
"Yes," she said, "to the door, that's all."
As they turned after Basile and Joy she added: "'Twas I, you know, that
got the bishop sick in the first place."
At the corner of the texas they glanced back but were reassured to see
the cub-pilot disappearing on the nearest boiler-deck stair at the
outer, depopulated side of the boat, the actor and Hugh moving toward
it, and the twins holding the field and scowling after their opponents.
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