I don't know if -"
Joanna gave me the faintest of looks. I slipped quickly out of the room and upstairs.
The old nursery was at the top of the house.
I opened the door and went in.
The room downstairs had given on to the garden behind and the blinds had not been down there. But in this room which faced the road they were decorously drawn down.
Through a dim gray gloom I saw Megan.
She was crouching on a divan set against the far wall, and I was reminded at once of some terrified animal, hiding. She looked petrified with fear.
"Megan," I said.
I came forward, and unconsciously I adopted the tone one does adopt when you want to reassure a frightened animal.
I'm really surprised I didn't hold out a carrot or a piece of sugar.
I felt like that.
She stared at me, but she did not move, and her expression did not alter.
"Megan," I said again.
"Joanna and I have come to ask you if you would like to come and stay with us for a little."
Her voice came hollowly out of the dim twilight:
"Stay with you?
In your house?"
"Yes."
"You mean, you'll take me away from here?"
"Yes, my dear."
Suddenly she began to shake all over.
It was frightening and very moving.
"Oh, do take me away!
Please do.
It's so awful, being here, and feeling so wicked."
I came over to her and her hands fastened on my coat sleeve.
"I'm an awful coward.
I didn't know what a coward I was."
"It's all right, funny-face," I said.
"These things are a bit shattering.
Come along."
"Can we go at once?
Without waiting a minute?"
"Well, you'll have to put a few things together, I suppose."
"What sort of things?
Why?"
"My dear girl," I said.
"We can provide you with a bed and a bath and the rest of it, but I'm darned if I lend you my toothbrush."
She gave a very faint weak little laugh.
"I see.
I think I'm stupid today.
You mustn't mind.
I'll go and pack some things.
You - you won't go away?
You'll wait for me?"
"I'll be on the mat."
"Thank you.
Thank you very much.
I'm sorry I'm so stupid. But you see it's rather dreadful when your mother dies."
"I know," I said.