The Pretty One [antikvár]

Jill's bed was next to the wall. It was a very thin wallwhich separated the two little girls' bedroom from theirparents'. Often at night she heard them talking when theycame back from the theatre, but usually their voices weresunk low so that she heard only a word or two of theirconversation.Jacqueline, whose bed was in the far corner, usually sleptthrough it. She was asleep now. The moonlight that camein through the open window drenched her pale gold hair insilver. At eleven she was a beautiful, ethereal-looking childwith clusters of soft, golden curls and large blue eyes. Shewas as beautiful as her mother.Jill was a year younger, though of the two girls she seemedthe elder. When they were together she always assumedthe responsibility. If there was any work to be done, it wasshe who did it. She was a small, slight child with reddish-brown hair and faint freckles on the bridge of her nose. Hereyes were hazel and eager and very large. At that age shewasn't beautiful but her face was vivid and arresting. Therewas a certain pixyish look to it that was oddly charming.To-night, sitting up in bed in the darkened bedroom,her thin arms clasped tightly about her knees, her handstightly interlocked, she listened. She listened with a tautapprehension that gradually changed to fear and a frighten-ing sense of dismay. What were they saying? And did hermother mean all that she was saying? Her mother, who wasso very lovely that everyone commented on it. Her motherwas speaking now:" I tell you, Ralph, I'm going to accept his offer andnothing you can say will stop me. Fm fed up to the teethwith being a cheap vaudeville artist. When we first marriedyou promised we'd soon be making the big towns, but foryears now we've been playing in rotten little halls, livingin dumps like this present lodging-house, appearing beforea crowd of half-baked yokels who haven't the intelligenceto appreciate our act. I tell you, I'm through with it! If