Of one of those inmates, the rather priggish Jack Tosswill, she
had made a real conquest. Under some flimsy excuse he had come every day,
always staying for a considerable time. This very morning he had not gone
till she had told him frankly that she only had lunch enough for one!
The door opened slowly, and her smile died away, giving place to a
touching, pathetic expression. And then, instead of the tall, dark
man she expected to see walk in, there advanced towards her a small,
freckled-faced, fair-haired little boy--Timmy Tosswill, the child whom
she was already beginning to regard with something akin to real distaste.
But Enid Crofton was never unpleasant in manner to anybody, and she even
forced herself to smile, as she exclaimed:--"I was not expecting a
visitor so late, but I'm very pleased to see you all the same, Master
Timmy! How wonderful that you should have been able to reach my knocker.
It's placed so very high up on the door--I think I must get it altered."
"I didn't knock," said Timmy shortly, "it was my godfather who knocked,
Mrs. Crofton."
And when Radmore followed his godson into the room he was surprised, even
a little touched, at the warmth of Mrs.
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