voice of the younger of the two women. They spoke in low tones and he could not distinguish what they said. The door opened and the elder woman came in. She pulled about the dresses in the trunk, took one and went out again, reclosing the door. The voices began again. Had they put him in here in order that he might not hear what was said? Finally the door was opened and the younger woman entered.
She sat down upon the bed and drew him to her. "What do you call yourself?" she asked.
He told her: "Peewee."
"That's not a real name. You know it ain't that, don't you?"
"Yes'm."
"What is your real name?"
He was silent; he had never accepted any other name. He was regaining confidence; her manner reassured him.
"You remember the day you saw your mother?"
"Yes'm."
"What did she call you?"
He replied after an instant: "Walter."
