A pleasant-faced attendant spoke to her, and asked where her people were.
"They're inside," answered Marjorie, "they're coming out in a few moments, but I didn't like this act, and I'm going to wait for them here." "All right, little one; sit there as long as you like.

I'll be about here all the time, and if you want anything, you call me.

My name's Bill." "Thank you," said Marjorie, and Bill went off whistling.

He was a big, burly young man, with a kind voice and manner, and he seemed to be a hard-working circus hand.

He was clearing up the place, and once in a while he glanced at Marjorie, as if to make sure she was all right.
Marjorie sat still on the bench, her thoughts all on the performances she had seen.