"The butcher gave me the kitten, Anthony."
"Of course he did; any man would give you all he had. What were you singing when I came in?"
"How should I know? I know a thousand bits of song and a thousand stories, and they march in and out of my head. Our dinner is spoiling, Mr. Adriance."
"I love you!"
"I dislike you!" she mocked him.
There was no one in New York who would have quite recognized either Anthony or Elsie Adriance in these two children at play together.
"Next Saturday evening I want you to take me shopping, please," she told him when they were seated at supper.
"Enchanted; but why Saturday?"
"Because you will have your wages then, naturally. We need more dishes, and a casserole, and a ribbon for the kitten, and—thousands of things."
"Shall I have wealth enough?"