|
|
Books for Sale |
|
He had been little more than a thing, staying where he was put till moved somewhere else. He opened the door and went out on to the landing. This was different. He felt a little giddy and the thought of the stairs gave him a nasty hollow feeling inside. Would his legs know what to do ? Suppose he fell. . . . For a second he shut his eyes, longing to be back in the room in which he felt at home. He ought to have accepted the stick, ought to have been ready to admit he was still a poor, helpless wretch. . . . His heart was thumping. What were they doing downstairs ? Why hadn't they come to help him ? |