"Here, cat! I hate you so, I could strangle you with it!"
Tess was kneeling beside the chair and he noted that her fingers fed the child carefully, and when a few warm drops of milk ran down the shaking baby chin, Tess took out her handkerchief and wiped the little face gently.
"Uncle Forrie won't be back tonight," he observed, after a while.
"Don't talk about him," gasped Tess. "I don't want to think of 'im."
"I don't see what we're goin' to do, brat," returned Andy miserably.
"I'll never give her back to Waldstricker, that's certain," Tess gritted. "I'll throw her out in the snow first. Let 'im find her, then, if he can."
Hunger satisfied, warm and snug, the tired baby smiled her thanks and fell asleep. After placing the bowl on the table, Tess drew the blankets about the little figure and stood up.
"Don't tell me not to do it," she said fiercely.
"I weren't going to, brat, dear," sighed the little man.
Then, the girl went to the window again. For what seemed hours to the dwarf, she stared silently into the winter night.