As the morning wore on Miss Lady grew more and more restless. Suppose
the preposterous should happen, and for the second time twelve honest
men should pronounce an innocent man guilty? Could Connie face the
ignominy of the verdict? Would her fickle, inconstant heart steady to
such a test? Suppose that once again the person on whom Donald Morley
depended, should fail him in a supreme hour?
For the third time Miss Lady threw on her wraps. She could no longer
stand the suspense, she must go to him, in case he needed her.
"'Fore de Lawd!" exclaimed Uncle Jimpson when her intention was made
known to him. "I dunno what ole John'll think of us, takin' him to de
station a day lak dis! 'Sides de noon train's done went."
"Then we'll have to drive to town. Hitch up as quickly as you can!"
"But, Miss Lady, Honey, you fergit de sleet! Ole John 'ud slide 'round
de road lak a fly on a bald spot."
"No matter! I'm going. Hurry!"
Myrtella, who was fashioning a dough man, under the personal
supervision of Bert, looked up indignantly:
"You don't think you are going out in this storm without no lunch, do
you?"
"I can't eat anything, I'm not hungry.
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