''Agnes! Oh! Oh! Agnes!''

I didn''t know what I would see when I went in to her—perhaps, a busted window and a burglar, pulling at her head, cutting the hair off. But the window, though it still rattled, was quite unbroken; and there was no-one there with her, she had come to the gap in her bed-curtains with the blankets all bunched beneath her chin and her#本#作#品#由#思#兔#網#提#供#線#上#閱#讀#

hair flung about, half covering her face. Her face was pale and strange. Her eyes, that I knew were only brown, seemed black Black, like Polly Perkins''s, as the pips in a pear. She said again, ''Agnes!'' I said, ''It''s Sue, miss.''

She said, ''Agnes, did you hear that sound? Is the door shut?'' ''The door?'' The door was closed. ''Is someone there?'' A man?'' she said. A man? A burglar?''

At the door? Don''t go, Agnes! I''m afraid he''ll harm you!'' She was afraid. She was so frightened, she began to frighten me. I said, ''I don''t think there''s a man, miss.'' I said, ''Let me try and