And when Tiny saw that, he said in her ear,
"You poor old duck, you!"
But Baby just hopped and cried,
"Pah!—I hate this little dog-hole. Not enough room to swing a cat in. Thankful to be shut of it."
All the same she let go Tiny's arm and ran quickly. And when she got into her dear little parlour that she'd arranged so cosy and stuffy and huggy-warm and tight up to the top with things, and Tiny's big chair one side the hearth where he was to have learned up E in the evenings, and her little one on the other side where she was to have heard him say it, she locked the door and sat down and began.
Then Tiny came up outside.
And when he heard what was going on inside, he tried hard to get in.
But Baby wouldn't let him.
So Tiny whispered with his mouth, close to the crack,
"O, Baby, d'you forgive for this morning?"