He looked away suddenly. He dare not meet her softened gaze just then.
"We will do whatever you wish," he said in a steady tone, after a minute. "Now, let's see."
They had reached the room, and he took a calm survey of it, in all its details. Then he marched up to a small urchin who, with much effort, was rocking a large chair to and fro, his chubby legs just reaching to the edge of its broad seat.
"I'm afraid you are working too hard, my son," he remarked blandly. "Just take these pennies, and drop them in the slot of that machine over in the farthest corner—see? There's no knowing what will drop out in return."
"I know!" cried the youth all agrin. "It's butter-scotch, or gum. I've seed that kind before."
He toddled briskly off with the handful of pennies and Dalton drew the vacated chair into a quiet nook, where the light fell softly and the crowd did not gather.
"Follow! Follow!" he called in a low tone over his shoulder, and, smiling happily, Joyce obeyed.
He seated her, heaped her many parcels on a convenient marble slab near by, then stood and looked at her a moment.
"I think you'll do," he observed in a whimsical tone, "but there's one thing more."
"Yes, a chair for you," she returned eagerly.