“Is your mother dead?”
“Yes.”
“And your father?”
“Hain't got no father.”
“Would you like to live here?”
Andy looked toward the empty bowl from which he had made such a satisfying meal, and said,
“Yes.”
“It will hold us both. You're not very big;” and as he said this the man drew his arm about the boy in a fond sort of way.
“I guess you're tired,” he added, for Andy, now that an arm was drawn around him, leaned against it heavily.
“Yes, I'm tired,” said the child.