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"If I was on the rags in the corner, I'd have this child--wouldn't I?"
scoffed Peaches, still clutching the doll, but her gaze on Mickey. "What
happened was, 'at she _liked you_ for something, and _give_ you the baby,
so you brought it to me. Thank you Mickey, for this Precious Child!"
Peaches lifted her lips. Mickey met them more obsessed than before. Then
she turned away, clasping the doll. Mickey could see that the tears were
slipping from under the child's closed lids, but her lips were on the doll
face, so he knew she was happy. He stole out to bring in his purchases for
supper, and begin his evening work. He gave Peaches a drink, her daily
rub, cleaned the room without making dust as the nurse had shown him, and
brought water. He shook his fist at the faucet.
"Now hereafter, nix on the butting in!" he said belligerently. "Mebby I
couldn't have got _that_ doll, but I could have got one she'd have _liked_
just as well, and earned it extra, in one day. There's one feature of the
Big Brother business that I was a little too fast on.


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