He did not offer to pick the penny up. He did not even apologize.
And he looked very carefully at the top Maida handed him as if he
expected her to cheat him. Then he walked out.

It was getting towards school-time. Children seemed to spring up
everywhere as if they grew out of the ground. The quiet streets
began to ring with the cries of boys playing tag, leap frog and
prisoners’ base. The little girls, much more quiet, squatted in
groups on doorsteps or walked slowly up and down, arm-in-arm. But
Maida had little time to watch this picture. The bell was ringing
every minute now. Once there were six children in the little shop
together.

“Do you need any help?” Granny called.

“No, Granny, not yet,” Maida answered cheerfully.

But just the same, she did have to hurry. The children asked her for
all kinds of things and sometimes she could not remember where she
had put them. When in answer to the school bell the long lines began
to form at the big doorways, two round red spots were glowing in
Maida’s cheeks. She drew an involuntary sigh of relief when she
realized that she was going to have a chance to rest. But first she
counted the money she had taken in. Thirty-seven cents! It seemed a
great deal to her.

For an hour or more, nobody entered the shop. Billy left in a little
while for Boston. Granny, crooning an old Irish song, busied herself
upstairs in her bedroom. Maida sat back in her chair, dreaming
happily of her work. Suddenly the bell tinkled, rousing her with a