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"Miché," she replied, looking up again with a tear standing in either eye, and then looking down once more as she began to speak, "I thing I thing she's lonesome." "You thing?" She nodded. "Ah! Madame Carraze," he said, partly extending his hand, "you see? 'Tis impossible to mague you' owze shud so tighd to priv-en dad. Madame, I med one mizteg." "Ah, non, Miché!" "Yez.
"Miché," she replied, looking up again with a tear standing in either eye, and then looking down once more as she began to speak, "I thing I thing she's lonesome." "You thing?" She nodded. "Ah! Madame Carraze," he said, partly extending his hand, "you see? 'Tis impossible to mague you' owze shud so tighd to priv-en dad. Madame, I med one mizteg." "Ah, non, Miché!" "Yez.
I cen't ged you noddings to eat, noddings, noddings. Hilda, we gowun to die togedder. Put der arms roundt me, soh, tighd, leedle babby. We gowun to die, we gowun to vind Popper. We aindt gowun to be hongry eny more." "Vair we go now?" demanded Hilda. "No places. Mommer's soh tiredt. We stop heir, leedle while, end rest." Underneath a large bush that afforded a little shelter from the wind, Mrs.
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