"You poor little tyke!" he said. "Now lean back and do as you're told.
I'm going to ring for food. Just plain, homely food. I'm as hungry as a
bear myself. I came to you from the vessel. I sent mother home in a cab.
I had to see you. We'll eat--play; and then, my precious one, we'll talk
business."
"How I have wanted you! needed you!" Again the pitiful wail.
"Now behave, child! When the waiter comes we must be as staid as Darby
and Joan. You poor little girl! Heavens! how big your eyes are, and how
frightened! Come in! Yes. This is the order; serve it here."
The waiter took the order wrapped in a good-sized bill, and departed on
willing feet.
"Your hair is about all that's familiar; longing for me couldn't take the
shine from that!" Travers kissed it.
"I see my next case," he laughed. "To get you in shape will be quite an
achievement. We both need--play. We thrive on that."
"Yes, my dear, my dear; but I have forgotten how!"
"Nonsense! Here's the food. Put the table near the grate"--this to the
man--"things smoking hot; that's good. The wine, please. Thanks! Miss
Glynn, to your health!"
How Travers managed it no one could tell, but his own unfettered joy
drove doubt and care from the little room.
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