Page:Arthur Stringer - The Door of Dread.djvu/315

 by much writhing and working of her torso she placed herself in position for rolling toward the bamboo table. These movements were painful. But she worked both methodically and patiently, for by this time she had arrived at a definite plan of action. And as she rolled toward the fragile-looking bamboo table she did so with all the vigor at her command. She bore down on it, in fact, with ever accelerating speed. Instead of pausing before coming into contact with its spindle legs, her rolling body struck it as a bowling-alley ball strikes a nine-pin.

She struck with sufficient force to send the faded palm and its ugly majolica vase tumbling to the floor. As it tumbled it crashed to pieces.

Instead of exhibiting dismay at this catastrophe, Sadie Wimpel turned over on her side, waited for the cloud of dust from the dried earth to settle, and then viewed the ruins with calmly studious eyes.

The bottom of the vase, she noticed, was the largest remaining piece of majolica. But what was more important for her purposes, along the edge of it ran a shattered edge of the vase-side. This fragment of earthenware she bunted and shouldered patiently away from the others. She did so very much like a sea-lion pushing its trick ball across a stage.