The puppy's ugly face and wide-apart bow-legs were at that moment the most beautiful things in the world to Bobby. Even birthdays were forgotten and he hugged and patted that worshipping creature for a long, long time before recollection of the Lady Who Likes Little Boys caused him to crawl hastily out from under the bed, burst through the door, and tear wildly downstairs to the red room, the puppy clutched to his heart.
The Man with the Pocketful of Quarters sat at the table in the corner, talking to the Lady. They both looked up.
"Well, son, is that what you want most?"
"Yes'm," smiled Bobby. "Is it all mine?"
"Head, body and tail," replied the man.
"It knew me!" exulted Bobby.
The man and the lady exchanged laughs.
"He's all boy," said the man. "Made of the right stuff."
The lady patted the man's shoulder and looked away.