He went down the street, like a hunted animal, beside himself with
grief, and looking for some place to hide. And as he ran on, he pulled
out the faded pictures he had carried next to his heart, and tore them
into pieces and flung them to the winds.
CHAPTER XXVII
When Sophie came home that evening, Samuel had mastered himself. He
told her the story without a tremor in his voice. And this was well,
for he was not prepared for the paroxysm of emotion with which the
child received the news. Miss Gladys had been the last of Samuel's
illusions; but she was the only one that Sophie had ever had. The
child had made her life all over out of the joy of working for her;
and now, hearing the story of her treatment of Samuel, she was almost
beside herself with grief.
Samuel was frightened at her violence. "Listen, Sophie," he said,
putting his arm around her. "We must not forget our duty."
"I could never go back there again!" exclaimed the child wildly. "I
should die if I had to see her again!"
"I don't mean that," said the other quickly--seeking to divert her
thoughts. "But you must remember what I have to do; and you must help
me."
He went on to tell her of his plan to fight for the possession of St.
Matthew's Church. "And we must not give way to bitterness," he said;
"it would be a very wicked thing if we did it from anger."
"But how can you help it?" she cried.
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