She locked
it; carefully again with a quivering sigh--after all she
would not have many hours to wait. Presently an idea came
to her that she thought worth keeping, and she thrust
her hand into her pocket for paper and pencil. She drew
out a crumpled oblong scrap and wrote on the back of it,
then unlocked the little bag again and put it carefully
in. Before it had been only the check of the _Illustrated
Age_ for a fortnight's work; now it was the record of
something valuable.
The train rolled into a black and echoing station as the
light in the carriage began to turn from the uncertain
grayness that came in at the window to the uncertain
yellowness that descended from the roof. Boys ran up and
down the length of the platform in the foggy gaslit
darkness shouting Banbury cakes and newspapers. Elfrida
hated Banbury cakes, but she had a consuming hunger and
bought some. She also hated English newspapers, but lately
some queer new notable Australian things had been appearing
in the _St. George's Gazette_--Cardiff had sent them to
her--and she selected this journal from the damp lot that
hung, over the newsboy's arm, on the chance of a fresh
one. The doors were locked and the train hurried on.
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