A CHILD OF THE JAGO
had been taken to the dispensary once again, and now lay drowsy and dull, with little more movement than a general shudder and a twitching of the face at long intervals; the little face itself was thinner and older than ever; horribly flea-bitten still, but bloodlessly pale. Mrs. Perrott had begun to think Looey was ailing for something; thought it might be measles or whooping-cough coming, and complained that children were a continual worry.
Dicky hung head and shoulders out of the window, clinging to the broken sill and scraping feverishly at the wall with his toes.
Jago Court was fuller than ever. The tossing went on, though now with more haste, that most might be made of the remaining time. A scuffle still persisted in one corner. Some stood to gaze at the High Mob, who, to the number of eight or ten, stood in an exalted group over
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