You see, I couldn't _believe_ I was
safe and sound; I kept seeing that dog jump at me! And finally she sang
to me, the nicest old-fashioned song and I went to sleep, and I never
opened my eyes until this morning, and there she stood by my bed with a
tray of nice breakfast. She wouldn't let me tell her how I got lost
until I'd eaten every crumb. And then I felt so cosy and warm and safe
that I told her everything--_everything_, all about Mother Lynch and how
my plans for the House of Laughter had failed at first, and then the
Rileys and what I thought of the Mills, and how horrid Mr. Norris was
and about Susy and poor Granny and Dale's model, and then what I'd done
at Grangers'. I just got started and I couldn't stop. And Beryl, I told
her _again_ how my aunt was an unhappy old woman who worried over her
own troubles so much that she didn't have time for other people's.
Wasn't that dreadful?" And Robin caught up a pillow and buried her face
in it.
Beryl looked troubled.
"Yes, that _was_ dreadful. What ever did she say?"
"She didn't say anything. She picked up my tray and went out, and I felt
the way I had that other time, all fussed, because I'd bothered a Queen
with my silly affairs.
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