Bobby didn't want the Lady to see the water in his eyes, so he tried to rub it out, but the tightly clutched dollar got in the way, and the lady must have seen what he was doing, for she simply rushed at Bobby and gathered him, puppy, dollar and all, into her arms and kissed him forty or a dozen times and held his face against her wet cheek.
"Birthdays can't be bought, Bobby, but you shall have one all of your very own. I'll give you one."
"Don't not want any," whimpered Bobby.
"Not if I give you one?" asked the lady, wiping the water out of her eyes. "We'll give you our little boy's."
Bobby kept perfectly still and in that stillness a miracle was performed; that trembling lip of his, without stopping its trembling, was transformed into a joyful smile. And when the Lady saw it, she smiled too.
"I've been selfish and . . . rebellious," said her sweet, low voice right at his ear, but she was looking up at the Man with the Pocketful of Quarters when she said it.
The man blew his nose and made such a loud noise that it startled Bobby and the Lady. They looked into one another's face and then began to smile like persons sharing a happy secret that no one else knew.
"I'll draw it up on paper, son," said the man, "and then if you ever lose it again, whoever finds the paper will know that birthday belongs to you and return it."
He went to the writing desk in one corner of the room, took paper, pen and ink and began to write. When all the water had gone out of the eyes of Bobby and the Lady, they went over to watch the man who was writing away rapidly and smiling to himself.