She laid aside her work and took him into her lap. “From God, dearie.”
“Who brings them, mummikins?”
“Angels.”
“How does they know to bring them?”
She laughed nervously; then checked herself, seeing how serious was the child’s expression. “People ask God, darling; he tells the angels. They bring the babies all wrapt up warmly in their softy wings and feathers.”
“Could a little boy ask him?”
“Anyone could ask him.”
“Would he send me one for my very ownest?”
“Some day—perhaps.”
“And you asked God to send me, muvver?”