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A big, hard lump grew in his throat.
He shut his lips tight and bored the tears from his eyes with his wiry
fists. He began to mutter his thoughts to regain self-control.
"Gee kid, but you had me scared to the limit!" he said. "I thought you
were gone, sure. Honest I did! Ain't I glad though! But you're the whitest
thing! You're like----I'll tell you what you're like. You're like the lily
flowers in the store windows at Easter. You're white like them, and your
hair is the little bit of gold decorating them. If I'd known it was like
that I wouldn't a-cut it if I'd spent a month untangling it. Honest I
wouldn't, kid! I'm awful sorry! Gee, but it would a-been pretty spread
over mother's pillow."
Mickey gazed, worshipped and rejoiced as he bent lower from time to time
to watch the fluttering breath.
"You're so clean now you just smell good; but I got to go easy. The dirt
covered you so I didn't see how sick you were. You'll go out like a
candle, that's what you'll do. I mustn't let even the wind blow cold on
you.


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