Then she had cut off her hair.
"I was wondering about your hair," interrupted Tinker.
For answer the little girl lifted up her black locks, hat and all;
displayed a fuzzy little fair poll underneath them, and let them drop
on it again.
"I see," said Tinker, and he went on with his questioning.
She had stayed with the Biggleswades, shut up in a room upstairs, she
did not know how many days; and then they had come down to Solesgate.
All the while Mrs. Biggleswade had been very unkind to her, and slapped
her whenever she cried for her mother.
The remembrance of her misfortunes set her crying again, and again,
with quiet patience, he consoled her. Presently she was babbling
cheerfully of her home, her mother, and her dolls, and asking many
questions. He made the replies politeness demanded, but he lent an
abstracted ear to her talk, for he was considering different plans for
escaping Mr. Biggleswade, most of them useless by reason of the
slowness of Elizabeth. He could only make up his mind that they must
dash for a cab as quickly as they could, and trust to Blazer for
protection.
It seemed to him a very long journey; and even when he had made his
plan, he found it no little task to take his part in the conversation.
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