"I just did, and you said you wouldn't tell."
"Was it because you lied to her that you cried?"
She tossed his question over in her mind. She intended to be truthful to him, unless a falsehood were forced from her to shield Ann.
"I cried because Sister Ann was so good to me."
"Are you going to tell me what caused you to be untruthful?" he asked persistently.
Fledra shook her head dismally.
Immeasurable compassion for the primitive, large-eyed child flooded his soul, and his next words assumed a more tender tone.
"Of course, you don't mean that you are going to keep it from me?"
Her dark head suddenly dropped again, and a smothered storm of sobs drew him closer to her. In the silence of arrested speech, he reached for her fingers, which were twisting nervously in the webby lace on her dress. With reluctance Flea permitted herself to be drawn from her chair.
"Fledra, stand here—stand close to me!" said he.