With a little shake of her head that set the tawny curls a-tremble, Tessibel squatted back on her feet.
"'Course I won't tell nobody, but if ye've got a pain in yer heart, daddy, the doctor—"
"I don't need no doctor, brat. I jest—jest got to talk to ye, that air all."
A slender girlish figure cuddled between Daddy Skinner's knees, and warm young lips met his. Never had Tess seen him look just that way, not even when he had been taken from her to prison. The expression on his face was hopeless, forlornly hopeless, and to wait until he began to speak took all the patience the eager girl-soul could muster.
"Brat, dear," he sighed at length, "I ain't needin' to tell ye again what I went through in Auburn, hev I?"
Brown eyes, frightened and fascinated, sought and found the faded greys.
"'Course not, Daddy Skinner! But what fer air ye talkin' about Auburn Prison?... Ye promised me, Daddy, ye'd forgit all about them days, an' now what're ye rememberin' 'em fer?"
Skinner's face blanched, and drops of sweat formed in the spaces behind his ears and trickled in little streams down his neck.
"I got to remember 'em, child," he groaned.
"What fer I want to know? Ye'd best make a hustle an' tell me or, in a minute, I'll be gettin' awful mad."