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But in answer the mite only harked back to his old refrain. "I want do d'an'ma," he said with stolid defiance, unmoved alike by his shaking or the nurse's expostulation.
"London's a large place, sir," he therefore observed tentatively, by way of drawing the mite out and getting some clue towards his identity. The little chap, however, was quite equal to the occasion. "Don't tare," he said defiantly, checking the porter's artful attempt at cross-examination. "I want do d'an'ma!" Certainly, he was a most independent young gentleman.
"Well, my little man," he said, desiring to learn how he might be of service, for he was a genial willing fellow, and always anxious to oblige people when he knew how "what's the matter?" "I want do d'an'ma!" repeated the small mite in the same piping tones as before, speaking with the utmost assurance and in the most matter-of- fact way.
Strange to say, the mite did not exhibit the slightest reluctance in returning home, as might have been expected from the interruption of his projected plan of going to London to see his "d'an'ma."
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