Catherine smiled at him. Poor boy! The little quiver of his nostrils was eloquent of nostalgia, of the rude necessity of adjustment.
"Our street isn't like this, Spencer," she assured him. "You will like that better."
"Turned into a country kid, have you?" Charles reached for the boy's arm. "Fine muscle! You'll have to try some handball with me this winter."
Spencer lost his forlornness at once. "In the court? Oh, gee!"
"I've got muscle too, Daddy." Marian bounced across to her father's knees. "Feel me! Can't I play ball with you?"
"Letty play!" wailed Letty.
The taxi jolted to a standstill in the traffic, and Letty was diverted by a large and black mammy descending from the street car close to the cab.
"Girls can't play," said Spencer conclusively.
"They can, too, can't they, Muvver!"