Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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“You must go out,” said Rosa, in a sharp, positive whisper; “you haven’t any business here!” “O, do let me! I brought a flower,- such a pretty one!” said Topsy, holding up a half-blown tea rosebud. “Do let me put just one there.” “Get along!” said Rosa, more decidedly. “Let her stay!” said St. Clare, suddenly stamping his foot. “She shall come.” Rosa suddenly retreated, and Topsy came forward and laid her offering at the feet of the corpse, then suddenly, with a wild and bitter cry, she threw herself on the floor alongside the bed, and wept, and moaned aloud. Miss Ophelia hastened into the room, and tried to raise and silence her; but in vain. “O Miss Eva! O, Miss Eva! I wish I’s dead, too,- I do!” There was a piercing wildness in the cry; the blood flushed into St. Clare’s white, marble-like face, and the first tears he had shed since Eva died stood in his eyes. “Get up, child,” said Miss Ophelia, in a softened voice; “don’t cry so. Miss Eva is gone to heaven; she is an angel.” “But I can’t see her!” said Topsy. “I never shall see her!” and she sobbed again. |