though He would laugh like other folk! Or even smile! No wonder Gran had worried about her. As soon as she could find time she would unpack Gran's tea-set and see if it had got a crack or chip coming over.
Down in the bar someone was playing a fiddle. She had often heard that queer, jiggy tune at home. Perhaps it wouldn't be so different here, after all. . . . Like waves the men's voices rose and fell, and, at last, submerged her in sleep.
