Читать книгу Streets of Night онлайн

48 страница из 53

"I'm afraid you think I'm dreadfully dumb, Cousin Nancibel. That was the dumbest thing to do," he said in tearful voice going up the stairs.

"Nonsense. I might have done it myself," she answered laughing. "Anything to break up the monotony of Sunday afternoon!... Right in here, James. You sit on the bathtub and hold it tight. I'll rub it with a little soap, Here's a cloth."

The boy did as he was told.

"Why, that'll come right out. You'll never notice it," said Nan briskly rubbing the cloth held against his thin thigh.

"You don't like Sunday either." His eyes looked up into hers with a sudden flash.

She wrinkled up her nose and he laughed.

From the wet woolly cloth came up a rough little smell like from Wenny's homespun. She felt herself flushing hotly. The boy looked up at her fixedly for a second and then the flush suffused his fair skin until it reddened his ears and the roots of his flaxen hair.

"That'll do," said Nan gruffly. "No one will notice it now." She walked hurriedly to the stairs and down.