THE RED RUGS OF TARSUS
stood ajar. A big negro put in his head, and announced: "Missus, dat chile am cryin'."
I hurried to my responsibility. Beside the bunk, looking down at the tiny mite, stood a coon in white linen. "Missus," he said, "de cap'n tole me to keep mah eye on dis li'l baby, an' not even let a fly walk 'cross dat chile's face. I wants yoh t' know, lady, dem 's de bes' awdahs dis coon 's had sence he lef ' home. But I couldn't stop it cryin' jes' now."
As I picked up Scrappie, whose great blue eyes shelter no shadow of the hell that came so near, I realized, with a wave of happiness overwhelming me, that I alone could quiet her.
Late in the afternoon Herbert came with Miss Talbot and the Dodds and Christies. They accompanied us to the Assouan in the launch. It was hard to say good-by to the women who had been nearest during the days of danger and suffering. Mother Christie held Scrappie to the last moment. Miss Talbot, my faithful nurse, who had stuck by me
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