"But I'm not his wife." Claudia's voice was cool and even. "He doesn't know the children he is getting these things for, and I do. But Channing would like this register, Mr. Laine. And Dorothea told me she wanted a drawing-table like that one over there. Have you bought Dorothea's present yet?"
Laine came back. "Only books. Her mother gets the other things for me. If she'd like that, get it."
Out of his voice had gone all spirit, and Claudia, noticing, looked up. "You're tired, aren't you? I think we'd better stop."
Laine laughed. "Tired? No, I'm not tired. I'm having a great time.
Playing make-believe is a good game. I haven't played it lately, and
I was doing it rather hard. I wonder what that bunch of people are
over there for? A number of children seem to be among them."
The girl waiting on them looked around. It was Santa Claus, she explained, who was taking the names and addresses, with a list of the presents most wanted by the children, who were there to tell where they lived. "Some of them have been here all day. That little lame fellow was among the first to come, and Santa Claus hasn't seen him yet. The crowd pushes him out so, and there's no one to lift him up high enough to be seen. He's held that piece of paper in his hand for hours."
Laine looked closer. On the outskirts of the crowd, his thin little face still eagerly trying to peer between the shifting circles, his crutches held tightly by hands too thin to grasp them properly, he saw the boy pointed out by the girl, and, without a word, he walked toward him. As he drew nearer, the head of Santa Claus could be seen over those of the crowd, but to the child he was still invisible; and as Laine saw the pinched face he swore softly under his breath.
For half a minute he stood by the boy's side, then touched him on the shoulder. "What is it, son? Can't you make the old fellow see you?"
The child shook his head. "Somebody always gets in ahead. I ain't tall enough."
"Here, hold your crutches." With a swift movement Laine swung the boy on his shoulders. "There, can you see him all right?"
"Yes, sir. And he can see me!" The thin little hand was held up, and Laine felt the quiver that ran over the frail body. "He sees me!"