"What is your name, little man?" she asked. "Dinney. What's the name o'
youse?"
Gloria ignored the question.
"Is this your little brother?" gently.
"Well, I guess!" said the boy.
"Can he walk?" more gently still.
"Yep, o' course--I mean when his legs gets stronger he'll walk, won't
youse, Hunkie? De doctor-woman says as wot he needs is plenty o' milk.
Wid its coat on--Hunkie ain't never had none wid its coat on till de
doctor-woman come."
"Its coat on?" murmured Gloria. Then by an inspiration she knew that
the boy meant cream--milk with the cream on. A sob rose unannounced in
Gloria's throat as she looked again at the mite in the cart who would
walk when his legs were stronger.
"Who is the doctor-woman?" she asked; but as she asked the question she
knew the answer and said, "Is she the District Nurse?"
"Yes, she is. She's good to my mother, and Hunkie's the baby. Rosy does
nice things, too. She showed Rosy how to be nice. Me mother's got de
consumption." The boy spoke as though discreetly proud of the fact.
"And who is Rosy?" Gloria asked.
"Sure--de girl wot lives 'cross de hall. She's got eyes like your eyes,
she has."
Across the hall on Treeless Street.
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