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Ferber, Edna, 1885-1968

"Dawn O'Hara, the Girl Who Laughed"

" And then as Alma Pflugel continued to stare, while
the stunned bewilderment grew in her eyes, "Why, I have
one-fourth interest in your own nephew this very minute.
And his name is Bennie! "
Whereupon Alma Pflugel fainted quietly away in the
chilly little grape arbor, with her head on my shoulder.
I called myself savage names as I chafed her hands
and did all the foolish, futile things that distracted
humans think of at such times, wondering, meanwhile, if
I had been quite mad to discern a resemblance between
this simple, clear-eyed gentle German woman, and the
battered, ragged, swaying figure that had stood at the
judge's bench.
Suddenly Alma Pflugel opened her eyes. Recognition
dawned in them slowly. Then, with a jerk, she sat
upright, her trembling hands clinging to me.
"Where is she? Take me to her. Ach, you are sure--
sure?"
"Lordy, I hope so! Come, you must let me help you
into the house. And where is the nearest telephone?
Never mind; I'll find one."
When I had succeeded in finding the nearest drug
store I spent a wild ten minutes telephoning the
surprised little probation officer, then Frau Nirlanger,
and finally Blackie, for no particular reason.


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