Page:Arthur Stringer - The Hand of Peril.djvu/168

 shimmering cocoon. Then she pounced on the still-hesitating house-maid, peeled her as a cook peels an onion, and struggled into the more ample folds of that borrowed raiment, kicking her own finery toward the staring-eyed denuded one as she dressed.

"They're all yours, dearie, gloves, a Gimbel hat an' all! Save 'em for Sunday an' you'll sure make a hit!"

She continued to talk as she caught up the unclean scrub-rag and mopped her face with it. "An' don't try chasin' me or worryin' me with questions! I've got a husband who's gone bughouse with payin' me bills an' says I've gotta dress simple!"

Sadie slammed and locked shut the bath-room door on that still astounded young house-maid who did not altogether seem ready to believe in fairies. Then she turned and ran for the next stairway. As she did so, she heard the street door below give way with a crash. That sound served to lend wings to her flight.

Not once did she stop on her way to the roof. There she tarried only long enough to restore the transom to its place. Then she ran nimbly across the flat tin of the house-top, dropped to the next roof, crossed that, and ran on until she came to a clothes-line dangling with a row of freshly washed clothes. At the far end of this line was a door opening upon a stairway. At the top of this stairway lay an empty laundry bag. Quick as thought the hurrying girl caught it up. Then she listened for a second or two, peering down into the house before her. Then quickly but quietly, pausing at each stair-head as she took up her flight, she made her way down through that silent and many-odoured house.