"Yes, ma'am, I am," he replied. "Father said I could go where I liked."
"Who is your father?"
The child laid a delicate finger on the smooth carving of the wall.
"He maketh—these," he explained.
"A carver," said Mary. "Is he working here?"
"Yes, ma'am. We come every day; there is another little boy—you are the mother of the other little boy?" he questioned.
"No," said Mary coldly.
"He isn't here to-day," remarked the child rather sadly. "When he is we go out, because he is a bigger boy than me. If you had been his mother I thought you might have taken me out."
"Your father can take you out."
"Father is working with Master Wren. Do you know Master Wren?"