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The Runaway Perambulator

           Therewas,inparticular,onevulgarlittlestreet-boy

           However,ifthatdampedmeinthemomentofvictory,Iwassoontotriumphgloriouslyinwhatbeganlikedefeat.Ihadsatmedownononeofthegarden-seatsintheFigs,withonehandrestingcarelesslyontheperambulator,inimitationofthenurses,itwassopleasanttoassumetheairofonewhowalkedwithDaviddaily,whentomychagrinIsawMaryapproachingwithquickstealthysteps,andalreadysonearmethatflightwouldhavebeenignominy.Porthos,ofwhomshehadhold,boundedtowardme,wavinghistraitoroustail,butsheslowedonseeingthatIhadobservedher.Shehadrunmedownwithmyowndog.

           IhavenotmentionedthatPorthoshadforsometimenowbeenavisitoratherhouse,thoughnevercanIforgettheshockIgotthefirsttimeIsawhimstrollingoutofitlikeanafternooncaller.Oflatehehasavoidedit,crossingtotheothersidewhenIgothatway,andrejoiningmefartheron,soIconcludethatMary’shusbandispaintinghim.

           Iwaitedhercomingstiffly,ingreatdepressionofspirits,andnotedthatherfirstattentionswereforDavid,who,somewhatshabbily,gavehertheendofasmilewhichhadbeenbegunforme.Itseemedtorelieveher,forwhatonemaycallthewildmaternallookleftherface,andtryingtochecklittlegaspsofbreath,theresultofunseemlyrunning,shesignedtoherconfederatestoremaininthebackground,andturnedcuriouseyesonme.

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Roboto Lora
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