“Oh! you’re a dear, kind fellow!”
To the ex-trackman this seemed almost as much sustenance as would that loaf which he was so conscious of having inside his jacket—“So handy like to tempt a poor lad.” Indeed, they were both very hungry. Also, they were both perfectly healthy; therefore, their self-denial was short-lived.
“Dennis?” she called to him, in the dim light.
“Yes, me little lady.”
“I think—we might take—just a little of—of the crust.”
“I’m thinkin’ that same.”
“Besides, I have the jam-cake.”
“Faith, an’ what more could a runaway ask? More, by token, to-morrow’s not come an’ to each day falls its lot, says I.”
With that he pulled forth his loaf and spread the gay kerchief on Carlota’s lap.
“Do ye mind that, me dear? Sure, there’s more nor a plenty for us an’ him, too—when he comes.”