“I should think so,” thought Kate to herself; then, after regarding him in silence for a few minutes, she said, timidly, “I—I have a—a piece of bread in my basket, sir, if you would like to have it?”
“Like to have it? You speak as though you had no sense. Of course, I should like to have it! Why didn’t you offer it to me sooner?”
Kate, in spite of her hunger, that had recommenced gnawing her, now that she was warm, handed him the piece of bread. The old man seized it ravenously, opened his mouth to an astonishing extent, bolted the large morsel as one does a pill, and then resumed his smoking as though nothing of any note had occurred. Kate regarded him with silent astonishment.
“What are you doing out in this kind of weather?” said the old man, suddenly.
“I came to gather pine-cones to sell in the town,” said Kate.
“You’re a fool!” snapped the old man. “How do you suppose you can gather pine-cones in twelve inches of snow, not to mention the drifts?”
“Nevertheless, sir, I have to get the children something to eat, and father——”
“Oh! don’t bother me with that story!” said the old man, impatiently. “I know all about it. Your father’s Peter Kurtz, isn’t he?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Umph!” grunted the dwarf. Then, after another pause, “go to the closet yonder, and take one of the cups there, in return for the bread you gave me.”