Once more she stole down the steps and hesitated where to
leave Miranda: not on the sidewalk,--for some reason that seemed
impossible. But near the foot of the flight of steps leading to the front
door she deposited the doll. The white package shone out plainly in the
illuminated street. There was no doubt that it would be readily seen.
With a quite unexplainable interest Miss Terry watched to see what would
happen to Miranda. She waited for some time. The street seemed deserted.
Miss Terry caught the faint sound of singing. The choristers were passing
through a neighboring street, and doubtless all wayfarers within hearing of
their voices were following in their wake.
She was thoroughly interested in her grim joke, but she was becoming
impatient. Were there to be no more passers? Must the doll stay there
unreclaimed until morning? Presently she became aware of a child's figure
drawing near. It was a little girl of about ten, very shabbily dressed,
with tangled yellow curls hanging over her shoulders. There was something
familiar about her appearance, Miss Terry could not say what it was. She
came hurrying along the sidewalk with a preoccupied air, and seemed about
to pass the steps without seeing the package lying there.
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