'The one who took the diamonds,' she replied.
'And I hope they will. He ought to be found and punished. Think what
harm he has done to me by letting them accuse me,' Harold answered,
indignantly.
'No, no, Hally,' Jerry replied. 'No one accused you but Tom, and he is
meaner than dirt; and if they did think you took them, and if you had to
go, I should not let you; I should go in your place. I could do it for
you and Mr. Arthur, but for no one else. Oh, I hope they will never find
them.'
She put her hands to her head, and looked so white and faint that
Harold was alarmed, and took her at once to his mother, who, scarcely
less frightened than himself, made her lie down, and brought her a piece
of toast and a cup of milk, which revived her a little. But the strain
upon her nerves for the last few days, and the fasting on bread and
water proved too much for the child, who for a week or more lay up in
her little room, burning with fever, and talking strange things at
intervals, of diamonds, and state prison, and accessories, and
substitutes, the last of which she said she was, assuring some one to
whom she seemed to be talking that she would never tell, never!
Every day Arthur came and sat for an hour by her bed, and held her hot
hands in his, and listened to her talk, and marvelled at her shorn head,
which he did not like.
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