know that someday you'll grow up and that you ought to have the things now that will make you then a strong, good man?"
"Yes'm," he said.
She would never be like this again to him, he was thinking. When he saw her again his father would have told her. There would not be that kind interest in her clear blue eyes, that sweetness in her smile.
"You wouldn't want me to take you back there again?"
"No'm."
"You understand that I want to do something for you—help you?"
"Yes'm."
"If I found some other place, some nicer place where you would like to be and where they would take care of you, would you let me send you there?"
He pretended to consider; there was no harm in promising.
"Yes'm."
"Will you go with me now?"
He drew away from her apprehensively.
