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Destiny’s Dream
Joan Smith
OCR by svetico (www.svetico.narod.ru)
1
The horses drew to a stop and a pair of brightly curious eyes peered out the carriage window into the coaching yard. So this was London! Flora had never seen so many people and horses and carriages in one place. She looked around in wonder, her ears ringing with the clamor of traffic. The hotel across the street must be five stories high. It was bigger than the church and hotel at home put together. Flora Sommers rose with the other passengers, happy to alight after a long trip. As she clambered down, she turned to say goodbye to her traveling companions. All she saw was their backs. People were certainly unfriendly in London! Or perhaps they were just in a hurry.
Flora was in a hurry too. The shadows of afternoon were lengthening. Her own small body cast a shadow eight feet long on the dusty cobbled yard. It hardly looked like the
8 Joan Smith
shadow of a person. With her shawl pulled over her head and her pelisse around her hunched shoulders, she cast a strangely inhuman shadow—headless, shoulderless, anonymous. A gust of cold November wind tore at her clothes and shivered up her spine. She clutched her threadbare pelisse more
tightly about her.
Mine is the cane bag, please, Flora called
to the boy unlashing the cases from the
carriage roof.
The boy gave her a dismissing look, spat on
the ground, narrowly missing her feet, and
growled, Wait your turn, miss.
The other passengers were giving the boy money. Tuppence just for handing down a piece of luggage! London must be paved with gold. Shed done the right thing to come here. As Flora had no tuppence to spare, she waited humbly for the other passengers to receive their luggage before asking for hers
once more. My case, please.
The boy gave her another condemning
glance. Itll cost you, he said boldly.
Flora felt a flash of confused emotion, Terror and fear were blended in it, but there was anger too. What if he didnt let her have her ca
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