"God forgive me!" prays Lockwin.
"Mamma, will I have to play with the swear boys?"
"No, my darling."
"And will my curls be cut off before you get a picture?"
The man remembers that Davy has been sick much of late. They have no likeness of him since he grew beautiful.
"And may I go to Sunday-school if I don't play with the swear boys? For the teacher said--"
The canal tightens in the throat. The old battle begins.
The man sprays furiously. The child lisps: "Please don't, papa."
The man is hurt to think he has mistaken the child's needs.
The air gets dry again. The child signals with its hand.