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"
That
is
warmer
,
miss
,
"
said
Becky
,
gratefully
;
"
but
,
someways
,
even
the
Bastille
is
sort
of
heatin
'
when
you
gets
to
tellin
'
about
it
.
"
"
That
is
because
it
makes
you
think
of
something
else
,
"
said
Sara
,
wrapping
the
coverlet
round
her
until
only
her
small
dark
face
was
to
be
seen
looking
out
of
it
.
"
I
've
noticed
this
.
What
you
have
to
do
with
your
mind
,
when
your
body
is
miserable
,
is
to
make
it
think
of
something
else
.
"
"
Can
you
do
it
,
miss
?
"
faltered
Becky
,
regarding
her
with
admiring
eyes
.
Sara
knitted
her
brows
a
moment
.
"
Sometimes
I
can
and
sometimes
I
ca
n't
,
"
she
said
stoutly
.
"
But
when
I
CAN
I
'm
all
right
.
And
what
I
believe
is
that
we
always
could
--
if
we
practiced
enough
.
I
've
been
practicing
a
good
deal
lately
,
and
it
's
beginning
to
be
easier
than
it
used
to
be
.
When
things
are
horrible
--
just
horrible
--
I
think
as
hard
as
ever
I
can
of
being
a
princess
.
I
say
to
myself
,
'
I
am
a
princess
,
and
I
am
a
fairy
one
,
and
because
I
am
a
fairy
nothing
can
hurt
me
or
make
me
uncomfortable
.
'
You
do
n't
know
how
it
makes
you
forget
"
--
with
a
laugh
.
She
had
many
opportunities
of
making
her
mind
think
of
something
else
,
and
many
opportunities
of
proving
to
herself
whether
or
not
she
was
a
princess
.
But
one
of
the
strongest
tests
she
was
ever
put
to
came
on
a
certain
dreadful
day
which
,
she
often
thought
afterward
,
would
never
quite
fade
out
of
her
memory
even
in
the
years
to
come
.
For
several
days
it
had
rained
continuously
;
the
streets
were
chilly
and
sloppy
and
full
of
dreary
,
cold
mist
;
there
was
mud
everywhere
--
sticky
London
mud
--
and
over
everything
the
pall
of
drizzle
and
fog
.
Of
course
there
were
several
long
and
tiresome
errands
to
be
done
--
there
always
were
on
days
like
this
--
and
Sara
was
sent
out
again
and
again
,
until
her
shabby
clothes
were
damp
through
.
The
absurd
old
feathers
on
her
forlorn
hat
were
more
draggled
and
absurd
than
ever
,
and
her
downtrodden
shoes
were
so
wet
that
they
could
not
hold
any
more
water
.
Added
to
this
,
she
had
been
deprived
of
her
dinner
,
because
Miss
Minchin
had
chosen
to
punish
her
.
She
was
so
cold
and
hungry
and
tired
that
her
face
began
to
have
a
pinched
look
,
and
now
and
then
some
kind-hearted
person
passing
her
in
the
street
glanced
at
her
with
sudden
sympathy
.
But
she
did
not
know
that
.
She
hurried
on
,
trying
to
make
her
mind
think
of
something
else
.
It
was
really
very
necessary
.
Her
way
of
doing
it
was
to
"
pretend
"
and
"
suppose
"
with
all
the
strength
that
was
left
in
her
.
But
really
this
time
it
was
harder
than
she
had
ever
found
it
,
and
once
or
twice
she
thought
it
almost
made
her
more
cold
and
hungry
instead
of
less
so
.
But
she
persevered
obstinately
,
and
as
the
muddy
water
squelched
through
her
broken
shoes
and
the
wind
seemed
trying
to
drag
her
thin
jacket
from
her
,
she
talked
to
herself
as
she
walked
,
though
she
did
not
speak
aloud
or
even
move
her
lips
.
"
Suppose
I
had
dry
clothes
on
,
"
she
thought
.
"
Suppose
I
had
good
shoes
and
a
long
,
thick
coat
and
merino
stockings
and
a
whole
umbrella
.
And
suppose
--
suppose
--
just
when
I
was
near
a
baker
's
where
they
sold
hot
buns
,
I
should
find
sixpence
--
which
belonged
to
nobody
.
SUPPOSE
if
I
did
,
I
should
go
into
the
shop
and
buy
six
of
the
hottest
buns
and
eat
them
all
without
stopping
.
"
