Tears welled over Jinnie’s lids too. Bobbie’s presence and adoration were still fresh in her mind.
“He’s dead,” she mourned. “My little Bobbie! Poor little hurt Bobbie!”
Molly made a passionate gesture with her gloved hands.
“Don’t, please don’t say those things! I’m so miserable I can’t think of him. I only wanted to know how you got him.” 336
“I just found him,” stated Jinnie. Then, because Molly looked so white, she forgot the anguish the woman had caused her, and rehearsed the story of Bobbie’s life from the time she had discovered him on the hill.
“I guess he was always unhappy till he came to us.”
“And I helped to hurt him,” cried Molly, shivering.
“But you didn’t know he was yours,” soothed Jinnie.
The woman shook her head.
“No, of course I didn’t know,” she replied, and then went on rapidly: