I spent the last of the money
that was to educate me in purchasing a dress suit to graduate in,
and a supper by way of celebration. The dress suit helped me to
my diploma. The supper gave me typhoid."
"So that was it!"
"Not jail, you see."
"And what are you going to do now?"
I glanced around to where a police officer stood behind us watchfully.
"Now? Why, now I go to jail in earnest."
"You have been very good to us," she said wistfully. "We have all
been strained and nervous. Maybe you have not thought I noticed or
--or appreciated what you were doing; but I have, always. You have
given all of yourself for us. You have not slept or eaten. And now
you are going to be imprisoned. It isn't just!"
I tried to speak lightly, to reassure her.
"Don't be unhappy about that," I said. "A nice, safe jail, where
one may sleep and eat, and eat and sleep--oh, I shall be very
comfortable! And if you wish to make me exceedingly happy, you
will see that they let me have a razor."
But, to my surprise, she buried her face in her arms. I could not
believe at first that she was crying. The policeman had wandered
across to the other rail, and stood looking out at the city lights,
his back to us. I put my hand out to touch her soft hair, then
drew it back. I could not take advantage of her sympathy, of the
hysterical excitement of that last night on the Ella.
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