She crawled over and caught at the skirts of this white woman who understood. “Gracious!” she exclaimed to herself. The pistol was his own, it is true, but it was one which was taken from him when he forced his way in upon me before. It consisted of a close jerkin of brown frieze, ornamented with a triple row of brass buttons; loose Dutch slops, made very wide in the seat and very tight at the knees; red stockings with black clocks, and a fur cap. Sorrow lay in the back of his mind as he withdrew, but he put it aside. She turned them down and gently placed the violin back in its red fake fur lined chamber. For a few moments, Thames regarded the little girl through the half-opened door in silence. A pair of startled blue eyes looked up into his. Don’t be frightened, dear. You can if you will. ” The two women shook hands.
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