Bobby's tongue was unloosed. For the first time in his short life he had found a grown-up person who did not consider him a nuisance. He poured out a strange medley into his astonished and amused uncle's ears. Imagination was much mixed up with fact, but the one theme that was the centre of the child's life was his absent father.
'I know he will come for me one day and take me away with himself! I finks every night when I'm in bed about it. He'll knock at my door sudden, and I'll say, "Come in." And then I'll see him!'
He gave a little wriggle of ecstasy as he spoke.
'He'll take me straight away. P'raps a cab will be at the door, or a motor, and we'll go off to the countries over the sea. Me and Nobbles lie very quiet and listen for the knock when we're in bed. I finks I hears it often, but it's been a mistake.'
'But I think I should be frightened to go off with a strange man in the middle of the night,' said his uncle, making a grimace. 'I would rather have him arrive in the middle of the day.'
'Well, sometimes I'd like him to. Just let me climb a little bit higher. Would I knock you down if I took hold of your solder very gently to help me? I want to show you the straight long road he'll come along. There!'
He had swung himself upon the bough above, his uncle having been equal to bear his weight.
And now, with eager face, he pointed out the white dusty high-road that went like a streak of light between rows of flat green meadows, and disappeared at the top of a hill on the horizon.
'He'll come!' he whispered into his uncle's ear; 'and I shall say good-bye to the House and go. I'm only waiting. He'll come along that road. I come here to expec' him every day.'
Not a vestige of doubt in the eager happy voice. His uncle looked at him in wonder.