which the bottles are a colored way, and at last they were in it, but
Tommy recognized it not; he did not even feel that he was near it, for
there were no outside stairs, no fairies strolling about, it was a short
street as shabby as his own.

But someone had shouted "Dinna haver, lassie; you're blethering!"

Tommy whispered to Elspeth, "Be still; don't speak," and he gripped her
hand tighter and stared at the speaker. He was a boy of ten, dressed
like a Londoner, and his companion had disappeared. Tommy never doubting
but that he was the sprite of long ago, gripped him by the sleeve. All
the savings of Elspeth and himself were in his pocket, and yielding to
impulse, as was his way, he thrust the fivepence halfpenny into James
Gloag's hand. The new millionaire gaped, but not at his patron, for the
why and wherefore of this gift were trifles to James beside the
tremendous fact that he had fivepence halfpenny. "Almichty me!" he cried
and bolted. Presently he returned, having deposited his money in a safe
place, and his first remark was perhaps the meanest on record. He held
out his hand and said greedily, "Have you ony mair?"

This, you feel certain, must have been the most important event of that
evening, but strange to say, it was not. Before Tommy could answer
James's question, a woman in a shawl had pounced upon him and hurried
him and Elspeth out of the street. She had been standing at a corner
looking wistfully at the window blinds behind which folk from Thrums
passed to and fro, hiding her face from people in the street, but gazing
eagerly after them. It was Tommy's mother, whose first free act on
coming to London had been to find out that street, and many a time since
them site had skulked through it or watched it from dark places, never
daring to disclose herself, but sometimes recognizing familiar faces,