“And the monkey?” said Arthur.
But there was no occasion to worry about Pretty-Heart, for while I was serving the dogs he had taken a piece of crust from a meat pie and was almost choking himself underneath the table. I helped myself to the pie and, if I did not choke like Pretty-Heart, I gobbled it up no less gluttonously than he.
“Poor, poor child!” said the lady.
Arthur said nothing, but he looked at us with wide open eyes, certainly amazed at our appetites, for we were all as famished as one another, even Zerbino, who should have been somewhat appeased by the meat that he had stolen.
“What would you have eaten to-night if you had not met us?” asked Arthur.
“I don’t think we should have eaten at all.”
“And to-morrow?”
“Perhaps to-morrow we should have had the luck to meet some one like we have to-day.”
Arthur then turned to his mother. For some minutes they spoke together in a foreign language. He seemed to be asking for something which at first she seemed not quite willing to grant. Then, suddenly, the boy turned his head. His body did not move.
“Would you like to stay with us?” he asked.