The alley was dark and narrow, and I did not see at first that it had
another occupant. Presently a hand was put out and touched me on the
shoulder.
I started up in terror, though the touch was soft and need not have alarmed
me. I found it came from a little girl, for she was really about my own
age, though then she seemed to me very big and protecting. But she was tall
and strong for her age, and I, as I have said, was weak and undersized.
'Chut! little boy,' said Ninette; 'what are you crying for?'
And I told her my story, as clearly as I could, through my sobs; and soon a
pair of small arms were thrown round my neck, and a smooth little face laid
against my wet one caressingly. I felt as if half my troubles were over.
'Don't cry, little boy,' said Ninette, grandly; 'I will take care of you.
If you like, you shall live with me. We will make a _menage_ together. What
is your profession?'
I showed her my fiddle, and the sight of its condition caused fresh tears
to flow.
'Ah!' she said, with a smile of approval, 'a violinist--good! I too am an
artiste. You ask my instrument? There it is!'
And she pointed to an object on the ground beside her, which I had, at
first, taken to be a big box, and dimly hoped might contain eatables.
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