On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. ” “My God!” said Manning, in a stage-aside. ” “I’m not. He deserves none. His wife met him at the door, and into her hands he delivered his little charge. ‘Thought you were going to break in here,’ he said, in an impatient whisper. Sheila decided to do a little laundry one day, clothes that were in Lucy’s hamper, a dirty clothes bin that Lucy had insisted that she have for herself separate from the family one. Sated, he rolled off her body and retired to his quarters.
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