"I don' know!"
"Did you have dinner enough?" said Winthrop with a smile.
Clam jumped up, and crossing her hands on her breast dropped a brisk little courtsey to her benefactor. She made no other answer, and then sat down again.
"Are you afraid to go home with your empty basket when the storm's over?" said he kindly.
"No," she said; but it was with a singular expression of cold and careless necessity.
"The rest of the basketful wouldn't be worth more than that, would it?" said he giving her a sixpence.
Clam took it and clasped it very tight in her fist, for other place of security she had none; and looked at him, but made no more answer than that.
"You won't forget where to come the next time you can't get an honest dinner," said he. "The corner of Beaver and Little South Streets. You know where it is? That is where I live. Ask for Mr. Landholm."
Clam nodded and said, "I know!"
"I hope you'll get some supper to-night," said he.