She hobbled to it with a haste
eloquent of the horrible Marseillaise poverty-stricken alleys, picked it
up joyously, turned--and with a delightful grace kissed her finger-tips
towards the ship.
Apparently we all of us had a few remaining French coins; and certainly
we were all grateful to the young Englishman for his happy thought. The
sous descended as fast as the woman could get to where they fell. So
numerous were they that she had no time to express her gratitude except
in broken snatches or gesture, in interrupted attitudes of the most
complete thanksgiving. The day of miracles for her had come; and from
the humble poverty that valued tiny and infrequent splinters of wood she
had suddenly come into great wealth. Everybody was laughing, but in a
very kindly sort of way it seemed to me; and the very wharf rats and
gamins, wolfish and fierce in their everyday life of the water-front,
seemed to take a genuine pleasure in pointing out to her the
resting-place of those her dim old eyes had not seen. Silver pieces
followed. These were too wonderful. She grew more and more excited,
until several of the passengers leaning over the rail began to murmur
warningly, fearing harm. After picking up each of these silver pieces,
she bowed and gestured very gracefully, waving both hands outward,
lifting eyes and hands to heaven, kissing her fingers, trying by every
means in her power to express the dazzling wonder and joy that this
unexpected marvel was bringing her.
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