Theatre Shoes Read Online Free Page B

the dressing-table had the same chintz frilled round it. On the dressing-table there were silver dressing-table things with “Addie” written on the backs. There was a white chest of drawers and a white cupboard. The carpet was blue, with pink flowers. By the bed on a white table was a white bedside lamp and, propped against it, a green frog. On the mantelpiece were fourteen wooden bears, ranging from a very big bear to a tiny one. There was only one picture; it was of a cornfield. In the corner there was a bookcase. Sorrel knelt down by it. Three whole rows of plays. A Bible. A dictionary. There were a lot of books Sorrel had never heard of, but, as well, there were several old favourites, “Little Women,” “Little Lord Fauntleroy,” “David Copperfield,” a very nice “Alice in Wonderland,” and, as well, some baby books, all the Beatrix Potters and Little Black Sambo. Hannah and Alice were talking in the doorway. Sorrel waited for a pause and then broke in.
    â€œThis is just as if my mother had only just left it.”
    Alice came to the top of the bed.
    â€œSo it is very near. We sent her clothes on, of course, and we sent her toilet things. That lot there are what she had as a child. Of course, when she was here you could hardly see the walls for photographs; you know what theatricals are.”
    â€œWhat happened to the photographs?” Mark asked.
    Alice seemed flustered by the question. She tried twice to answer it, and then she spoke more to Hannah than to the children.
    â€œWe acted very foolish, no saying we didn’t. Destroyed a lot of things when we lost our temper.”
    Hannah seemed to be tired of the subject of photographs. Her voice was brisk.
    â€œWell, Sorrel isn’t the only one who has to sleep tonight; where’s the rest of us going?”
    There was a large linoleum-floored room, which had been the nursery, for Hannah and Holly and a small room at the end of the passage for Mark. Neither room was in at all good condition, the walls looked dirty and such furniture as there was badly needed paint. Alice was apologetic.
    â€œLooks a bit off, but I had to scratch round and find what I could.”
    Mark was not fussy, but he was hurt that so little preparation had been made for his coming.
    The bed was iron and instead of an eider-down there was a plaid rug. It had once had J.W. embroidered on it, but the embroidery threads had broken with age and half the stitching was gone. There was no proper cupboard, only a curtain which had once had a silky pattern on it, but with use almost all the silk pattern was gone and only the cotton threads which had held the design were left. There were no books and no pictures. The only curtains were the blackout ones. Mark went to the window. It looked out on a narrow street at the back of the house. It was one of those streets you find in towns which seem to have nothing in them but the backs of places and storehouses. This street, too, was very battered looking. A black cat was the only living thing to be seen. Mark turned his face entirely to the street and made fearful faces at the cat.
    Hannah glanced at Sorrel, they both knew how Mark was feeling, but they knew, too, that since they could not alter things it was not much good saying anything. Instead Hannah turned to Alice.
    â€œWhen are they seeing their Granny?”
    Alice too had her eyes on Mark; she seemed glad to be interrupted, for she pounced on the question and answered it in an unnaturally gay voice.
    â€œAs soon as we’ve had a drop of Rosy.” Hannah looked enquiring. “Lee. Tea. You’ll soon get used to old Alice.”
    â€œI’ll get some things up, then.” Hannah struggled hard to sound as bright as Alice, but her eyes kept turning to Mark, and as well she was thinking of the old nursery. She did not mind the linoleum, but in the nursery too there were no real curtains, only black-out, and though there was a