From his hiding-place Jimmy peeped around the edge of the armchair and

saw what seemed to be a large clothes basket entering the room. Closer

inspection revealed the small figure of Maggie, the washerwoman's

daughter, propelling the basket, which was piled high with freshly

laundered clothing. Jimmy drew a long sigh of relief, and unknotted his

cramped limbs.

"Shall I lay the things on the sofa, mum?" asked Maggie as she placed

her basket on the floor and waited for Zoie's instructions.

"Yes, please," answered Zoie, too exhausted for further comment.

Taking the laundry piece by piece from the basket, Maggie made excuses

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for its delay, while she placed it on the couch. Deaf to Maggie's

chatter, Zoie lay back languidly on her pillows; but she soon heard

something that lifted her straight up in bed.

"Me mother is sorry she had to kape you waitin' this week," said Maggie

over her shoulder; "but we've got twins at OUR house."

"Twins!" echoed Zoie and Aggie simultaneously. Then together they stared

at Maggie as though she had been dropped from another world.

Finding attention temporarily diverted from himself, Jimmy had begun to

rearrange both his mind and his cravat when he felt rather than saw that

his two persecutors were regarding him with a steady, determined gaze.

In spite of himself, Jimmy raised his eyes to theirs.

"Twins!" was their laconic answer.

Now, Jimmy had heard Maggie's announcement about the bountiful supply

of offspring lately arrived at her house, but not until he caught the

fanatical gleam in the eyes of his companions did he understand the

part they meant him to play in their next adventure. He waited for no

explanation--he bolted toward the door.

"Wait, Jimmy," commanded Aggie. But it was not until she had laid firm

hold of him that he waited.

Surprised by such strange behaviour on the part of those whom she

considered her superiors, Maggie looked first at Aggie, then at Jimmy,

then at Zoie, uncertain whether to go or to stay.

"Anythin' to go back, mum?" she stammered.

Zoie stared at Maggie solemnly from across the foot of the bed.

"Maggie," she asked in a deep, sepulchral tone, "where do you live?"

"Just around the corner on High Street, mum," gasped Maggie. Then,

keeping her eyes fixed uneasily on Zoie she picked up her basket and

backed cautiously toward the door.

"Wait!" commanded Zoie; and Maggie paused, one foot in mid-air. "Wait in

the hall," said Zoie.




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