"I say, you know, if they're going to howl," said Ranny.
"You must—"
"That's it, I mustn't. They can't have everything they choose to howl for."
"There," said Winny. "See! Daddy can't take you if you cry. He can't, really."
(She had gone—perfidious Winny!—to the drawer where she knew Stanley's clean suit was. Stanley knew it too.)
The children stopped crying as by magic. With eyes where pathos and resentment mingled they gazed at their incredible father. Tears, large crystal tears, hung on the flame-red crests of their hot cheeks.
Winny turned before she actually opened the drawer.
"Who wants," said she, "to go with Daddy?"
"Me," said Dossie.
"Me," said Stanley.