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I had just as lief kiss you as not if you wasn't my father; and aunt Madge says she'll answer it, 'cause you couldn't read my writing; but I hain't got any pig! He was a pinky winky little thing, but grandpa kept a keepin' him eatin', and he got so big once when I was gone that they had to kill him. But he didn't go to heaven, and I'm glad, for I don't ever want to see him again.
He found Winny Dymond sitting there, alone, with the Baby on her knee. He caught her in the act of slipping a nightgown over its little naked body, that was all rosy from its bath. The place was full of the fragrance of soap and violet powder and clean linen. "Hello, Winky!" he said. "What a lark!" He stood fascinated. But Winky with a baby in her lap was not capable of levity.
He came up very close to her and spoke in her small pink ear. "If it succeeds," he whispered, "we go to Heaven, I suppose; if it fails we stay upon the earth." Then he stood off, holding her hands at arm's length and gazing down upon her. "Do you want to go to Heaven?" he asked very deliberately, "or to stay here upon the earth with me and Winky ?"
"But you've seen it, Winky. You've seen all there is of it. You don't want to stay here all night, do you?" He had her there, with his reminder of the hours they had to put in. "Well" she was lingering in the most natural manner, as if fascinated by the exterior of the Globe Theater. For she wished to spin out the time. She saw Ranny's hand sliding toward his pocket.
"Winky," she said, speaking rather low, "is a true name, of course. You really created Winky called Winky into being." For to her now this seemed as true and possible as it had seemed to himself at the age of ten. "Oh, I really loved Winky," he replied enthusiastically, and was at the same moment surprised to feel her draw away her hand. "Winky lived for years in my very heart."
He was so surprised that, instead of saying what a man naturally would say in the circumstances, he said, "Winky!" It would have been like her either to have laughed at his clumsiness or to have flown to help him, but Winky wasn't like herself.
She knew it was her last look, in that room in that way that had been the way of innocence. "Well, I never!" said Ranny's mother, as he returned from seeing Winky home. "Did they ever cry like that for their Mammy?" He smiled grimly. His illumination was more than he could bear.
"But lose our Winky!" she said, nestling against his coat, her voice singularly soft, her fingers scratching gently the palm of his hand where they lay. "Hush, hush!" he answered, kissing her into silence. "We must have more faith. I think everything will be all right.
His pretended severity only made her happy, for nothing could intimidate by a hair's breadth this exquisite first love of her awakening soul. "Some day, perhaps, oh, my sweet Master," she whispered with trembling lips, "but not now. I want to be on earth first with you and with our Winky." To hear that precious little voice call him "sweet Master" was almost more than he could bear.
"Well, then, give Daddy a kiss and ask him nicely. Then perhaps he'll take you." And they did, and he had to take them. But it was mean, it was treacherous of Winny. "What did you do that for, Winky?" he said, going over to her where she rummaged in the drawer. "Because," she said, "you promised." "Promised what?" "Promised you'd take them. Promised Stanny he should wear his knickers.
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