The Little Lover ran away and hid. They could not find him for a long time. It was She who found him.
“Why, Reggie! Why, poor little man! Look up. What is it, dear? Reggie, you are crying!”
He did not care. He wanted to cry. But he let Her take him into Her arms.
“I wanted to do it!” he sobbed, desolately, his secret out at last.
“Do it? Do what, Reggie?”
“M-marry you. I was goin’ to do it. H-He hadn’t any right to! I hate him—I hate him!”
A minute there was silence, except for the soft creak of Her dress as She rocked him. Then She lifted his wet little face to Hers.
“Reggie,” She whispered, “how would a mother do?”
He nestled his cheek against Her sleeve and rubbed it back and forth, back and forth, while he thought. A mother—then there would be no more loneliness. Then there would be a place to cuddle in, and somebody to tell things to. “I’d ravver a mother,” the Little Lover said.
Chapter X