twelve
o'clock
She stooped , raised the child in her arms , wrapped a shawl round her , and walked swiftly away . And that evening , when Maggie came to fetch her little lass , she was not there ; the only trace of her was one small clog , half full of sand , on the door-step ! The woman with the tambourine hurried along , keeping the child 's head covered with her shawl , at her heels a dirty-white poodle followed closely . The street was bustling and crowded , for it was past twelve o'clock , and the workpeople were streaming out of the factories to go to their dinners . If Maggie had passed the woman , she would surely have felt that the bundle in her arms was her own little lass , even if she had not seen one small clogged foot escaping from under the shawl . Baby was quiet now , except for a short gasping sob now and then , for she thought she was being taken to mammy . On and on went the woman through the town , past the railway-station , and at last reached a lonely country road ; by that time , lulled by the rapid , even movement and the darkness , baby had forgotten her troubles , and was fast asleep .