The windows were open, and those outside could see.
Presently, in a lull of the singing, there was a stir in the crowd, and
then, sudden loud greetings:
"My, if it ain't Tim Denton! Jerusalem! You back, Tim!"
These and other phrases caught the ear of Laura Sloly in the sick-room.
A strange look flashed across her face, and the depth of her eyes was
troubled for a moment, as to the face of the old comes a tremor at the
note of some long-forgotten song. Then she steadied herself and waited,
catching bits of the loud talk which still floated towards her from
without.
"What's up? Some one getting married--or a legacy, or a saw-off? Why,
what a lot of Sunday-go-to-meeting folks to be sure!" Tim laughed
loudly.
After which the quick tongue of Nicolle Terasse: "You want know? Tiens,
be quiet; here he come. He cure you body and soul, ver' queeck--yes."
The crowd swayed and parted, and slowly, bare head uplifted, face looking
to neither right nor left, the Faith Healer made his way to the door of
the little house. The crowd hushed. Some were awed, some were
overpoweringly interested, some were cruelly patient.
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