From his hiding-place Jimmy peeped around the edge of the armchair and
saw what seemed to be a large clothes basket entering the room. Closer
inspection revealed the small figure of Maggie, the washerwoman's
daughter, propelling the basket, which was piled high with freshly
laundered clothing. Jimmy drew a long sigh of relief, and unknotted his
cramped limbs.
"Shall I lay the things on the sofa, mum?" asked Maggie as she placed
her basket on the floor and waited for Zoie's instructions.
"Yes, please," answered Zoie, too exhausted for further comment.
Taking the laundry piece by piece from the basket, Maggie made excuses
for its delay, while she placed it on the couch. Deaf to Maggie's
chatter, Zoie lay back languidly on her pillows; but she soon heard
something that lifted her straight up in bed.
"Me mother is sorry she had to kape you waitin' this week," said Maggie
over her shoulder; "but we've got twins at OUR house."
"Twins!" echoed Zoie and Aggie simultaneously. Then together they stared
at Maggie as though she had been dropped from another world.
Finding attention temporarily diverted from himself, Jimmy had begun to
rearrange both his mind and his cravat when he felt rather than saw that
his two persecutors were regarding him with a steady, determined gaze.
In spite of himself, Jimmy raised his eyes to theirs.
"Twins!" was their laconic answer.
Now, Jimmy had heard Maggie's announcement about the bountiful supply
of offspring lately arrived at her house, but not until he caught the
fanatical gleam in the eyes of his companions did he understand the
part they meant him to play in their next adventure. He waited for no
explanation--he bolted toward the door.
"Wait, Jimmy," commanded Aggie. But it was not until she had laid firm
hold of him that he waited.
Surprised by such strange behaviour on the part of those whom she
considered her superiors, Maggie looked first at Aggie, then at Jimmy,
then at Zoie, uncertain whether to go or to stay.
"Anythin' to go back, mum?" she stammered.
Zoie stared at Maggie solemnly from across the foot of the bed.
"Maggie," she asked in a deep, sepulchral tone, "where do you live?"
"Just around the corner on High Street, mum," gasped Maggie. Then,
keeping her eyes fixed uneasily on Zoie she picked up her basket and
backed cautiously toward the door.
"Wait!" commanded Zoie; and Maggie paused, one foot in mid-air. "Wait in
the hall," said Zoie.