“Have you got any—anything to eat?”
“That’s why I sent the letter. That’s why they keep squalling all the time.”
“I’ll be back before dark,” Pidge said, turning into the hall.
“You’ll—sure—come—back?”
“Sure,” called Pidge.
She returned with her arms full of groceries, and went home promising to come back the next afternoon.
“... Bring them here. There is no other way,” Miss Claes said.
“But they’re not clean!” Pidge moaned. “They are too sick to keep clean.”
“We can freshen them up a little,” said Miss Claes.