Спрут: Каліфорнійська історія

           Minuteafterminute,herhungergnawedather.Shecouldnotkeephermindfromit.Asshesatontheboat,shefoundherselfcuriouslyscanningthefacesofthepassengers,wonderinghowlongsincesuchaonehadbreakfasted,howlongbeforethisothershouldsitdowntolunch.

           WhenMinnadescendedfromthetrain,atLorinontheothersideoftheBay,shefoundthattheplacewasoneofthosesuburbantowns,notyetbecomefashionable,suchasmaybeseenbeyondtheoutskirtsofanylargeAmericancity.Allalongthelineoftherailroadthereabouts,houses,smallvillas—contractors’ventures—werescattered,theadvantagesofsuburbanlotsandsitesforhomesbeingproclaimedinseven-footlettersuponmammothbill-boardsclosetotherightofway.Withoutmuchtrouble,Minnafoundthehousetowhichshehadbeendirected,aprettylittlecottage,setbackfromthestreetandshadedbypalms,liveoaks,andtheinevitableeucalyptus.Herheartwarmedatthesightofit.Oh,tofindalittlenicheforherselfhere,ahome,arefugefromthosehorriblecitystreets,fromtheratoffamine,withitsrelentlesstooth.Howshewouldwork,howstrenuouslyshewouldendeavourtoplease,howpatientofrebukeshewouldbe,howfaithful,howconscientious.Norwereherpretensionsaltogetherfalse;uponher,whileathome,haddevolvedalmostcontinuallythecareofthebabyHilda,herlittlesister.Sheknewthewantsandneedsofchildren.

           Herheartbeating,herbreathfailing,sherangthebellsetsquarelyinthemiddleofthefrontdoor.