“Met!”
“What is it now, my pretty?”
“Don’t you fordet to wate me up when mamma Doosa tomes.”
“No, I won’t, my pretty.”
“Now I do s’e p, sure ’nough. Dood night, Met.”
“Good night, little angel.”
“More tiss.”
She stooped and pressed her lips to his baby lips again.
He opened his drowsy eyes to look at her and say:
“Lenny love Met.” And with the words in his mouth he fell fast asleep.