We use Optical Character Recognition (OCR) during our scanning and processing workflow to make the content of each page searchable. You can view the automatically generated text below as well as copy and paste individual pieces of text to quote in your own work.
Text recognition is never 100% accurate. Many parts of the scanned page may not be reflected in the OCR text output, including: images, page layout, certain fonts or handwriting.
OIL AND WATER
101
The vogue for classic Art, and Color dancing had given place to acrobatic and ragtime performances. Mile. Genova had difficulty in holding her place at all, and each dance was followed by an even worse attack of violent coughing, that often continued far into the night. Yet the show went well in the Hub ; no one noticed or seemed to care.
The last night of "The Golden Slipper's" merry whirl in Boston arrived. By seven o'clock there was a throng storming the box-office. A woman passed on the other side of the street, glancing at the crowd with a little shudder. She made straight for a group of great houses frowning even at the lights of the street nearby. She paused before one which, with its drawn shades and hidden lights, was more prim than any of its neighbors. For a full minute she looked at a certain window high up, thru which a ray of light peered timidly. A passer-by might have descried dull agony in her face and seen one hand gripping her breast, as tho something had been torn from it. Suddenly she set her foot determinedly on the step and ascended. She shivered as the bell jangled coldly within.
The flood of light revealed her harshly to the old butler, who stepped back for a moment, as tho he saw a ghost.
"You know me?" said the woman.
"Yes, madam," he responded, with involuntary deference.
"Owens — you were kind to me — in those days. Help me now." A sudden note of tragedy crept into her
voice.
I shall obey you, madam. Step in. The air has made you cough."
"I want to see my child — once — "
"But, madam " began Owens,
rubbing his hands in perplexity.
"Only for a minute— for the last time."
"We shall go up the back stairs, madam," said Owens, without another word.
And the woman found the child seated before a great doll. If the stranger's entrance startled the child,
there was little sign of it. She surveyed the visitor, calmly, studiously.
"I did not send for you," she said haughtily. ' ' And no servant has permission to come in here unless Igive it."
"I am not a servant," said the woman, with great difficulty.
"Who are you, then?" asked the child.
The woman was breathing very hard now, and was holding both hands close to her breast.
"Have you a mother?" she asked huskily.
"You have no right to ask me that," reproved the young lady; "but
HER CHILD
I will tell you. My grandmama is the only mother I have or want; and now I shall have to ask you to leave, because I want to say my prayers."
"May — may I kiss you before I leave?" whispered the little woman, tremulously.
"My grandmama does not permit any one to kiss me — outside the family, I mean. ' ' The child was looking at the woman in real amazement now, for she was weeping brokenly. "But, if you really want to as bad as that, why, you may, I suppose — if you will promise to go at once. ' '
The woman paused for a moment, to suppress a fit of coughing; then took the child's hand in hers and held it to her shrunken breast, her eyes all the while pleading for something the child could not comprehend.