"Barbara," he said; "I have never seen my baby."
"I know, Daddy."
"I want to see you, dear."
"And I want you to."
"Then, will you let me go?"
"Perhaps, but it must be—afterward, you know."
"Why?"
"Because, when you see me, I want to be strong and well. I want to be able to walk. You mustn't see the crutches, Daddy—they are ugly things."
"Nothing could be ugly that belongs to you. I made a little song this afternoon, while you and Miriam were talking and I was out alone."