A CHILD OF THE JAGO
eyes; her pale lips lay eased of the old pinching—even parted in a smile. For she looked in the face of the angel that plays with the dead children.
Hannah Perrott's chin fell. "Lor," she said bemusedly, and sat on the bed.
An odd croaking noise broke in jerks from Pigeony Poll as she crept from the room, with her face bowed in the bend of her arm, like a weeping schoolboy. Dicky stared, confounded. . . . .
Josh came and gazed stupidly, with his mouth open, walking tiptoe. But at a word from Kiddo Cook, who came in his tracks, he snatched the little body and clattered off to the dispensary, to knock up the young student.
The rumour went in the Jago that Josh Perrott was in double luck. For here was insurance money without a doubt. But in truth that was a thing the Perrotts had neglected.
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