a single thing to play with, and Gladys told us how she sneaked things into the trunks. Mothers is always awful fierce, she says, when they're packing; so when Mother was out" and again mirth overcame Robert, and Sara laughed with shrillness—"and I sneaked in Evelyn Dearie when mother wasn't looking. Evelyn Dearie is here in this room now!"
Tom Marcey mopped his streaming forehead.
"I think you children—" he began; but here there came to Alice a vision of herself, thrusting with guilty swiftness into a bureau drawer poor Jamie's cast-iron cars. The sight of the surreptitious toys salved her conscience. She joined her children in their laughter. There was only one sting in it, the shadow of Gladys was still over them.
