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Book, page 22 / 224 girl, the quilt wrapped around her closely, drawn up about her face and head, as if she would hide all but her eyes within, and try to get rid of shivering. "You home?" she said, her tones expressing surprise, but at the same time indifference. "What is it for?" "Because I wanted to come. Hasn't a fellow a right to come home if he wants to?" "Of course; and it's such a lovely home, and you are so fond of it, no one need wonder at your coming in the middle of the day." The sentence was sarcastic enough, but the tones were hardly so; they expressed too much indifference even for sarcasm. Dirk surveyed her thoughtfully; he seemed to have no answer ready. In fact, his face wore almost a startled air, and really the thought which presented itself for consideration was startling. Something about the face of the girl, done up so grotesquely in her ragged quilt, suggested the lady who had been his teacher at the Mission! Could one find a sharper contrast than existed between these two? Yet Dirk, as he looked, could not get away from it. "What are you staring at?" the girl asked, presently, growing uneasy over the fixedness of his gaze. "Do you see anything uncommon about me?" "Where's mother?" he asked, dropping his eyes, and turning from her. "In there, asleep. You needn't talk quite so loud; it won't hurt her to get a bit of rest. She sat up till morning, poking at your old coat." Dirk looked down at it thoughtfully. There had been an attempt to make it decent, although the setting of the patches showed an unpractised hand, and they were of a strikingly different color from the coat itself. "You might have done it for her, then, in the daytime," he said, briefly, and added, "Where's father?"
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