When I had picked up the receiver: "This is Ernst,"
said the voice at the other end of the wire. "I have
just remembered that I had asked you down-town for
supper."
"I would rather thank God fasting," I replied, very
softly, and hung the receiver on its hook.
CHAPTER XII
BENNIE THE CONSOLER
In a corner of Frau Nirlanger's bedroom, sheltered from
draughts and glaring light, is a little wooden bed,
painted blue and ornamented with stout red roses that are
faded by time and much abuse. Every evening at eight
o'clock three anxious-browed women hold low-spoken
conclave about the quaint old bed, while its occupant
sleeps and smiles as he sleeps, and clasps to his breast
a chewed-looking woolly dog. For a new joy has come to
the sad little Frau Nirlanger, and I, quite by accident,
was the cause of bringing it to her. The queer little
blue bed, with its faded roses, was brought down from the
attic by Frau Knapf, for she is one of the three foster
mothers of the small occupant of the bed. The occupant
of the bed is named Bennie, and a corporation formed for
the purpose of bringing him up in the way he should go is
composed of: Dawn O'Hara Orme, President and Distracted
Guardian; Mrs.
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