Chapter XIX

           Thenurselefttheroomquietly,astheAngelentered,carryingthebundleandpicture.Whentheywerealone,sheturnedtoFrecklesandsawthatthecrisiswasindeedathand.

           Thatshehadgoodwordtogivehimwashissalvation,fordespitetheheavyplasterjacketthatheldhisbodyimmovable,hisheadwasliftedfromthepillow.Botharmsreachedforher.Hislipsandcheeksflamed,whilehiseyesflashedwithexcitement.

           “Angel,”hepanted.“OhAngel!Didyoufindthem?Aretheywhite?Arethelittlestitchesthere?OHANGEL!DIDMEMOTHERLOVEME?”

           Thewordsseemedtoleapfromhisburninglips.TheAngeldroppedthebundleonthebedandlaidthepicturefacedownacrosshisknees.Shegentlypushedhisheadtothepillowandcaughthisarmsinafirmgrasp.

           “Yes,dearheart,”shesaidwithfullestassurance.“Nolittleclotheswereeverwhiter.Ineverinallmylifesawsuchdainty,fine,littlestitches;andasforlovingyou,noboy’smothereverlovedhimmore!”

           AnervoustremblingseizedFreckles.

           “Sure?Areyousure?”heurgedwithclickingteeth.

           “Iknow,”saidtheAngelfirmly.“AndFreckles,whileyourestandbeglad,Iwanttotellyouastory.Whenyoufeelstrongerwewilllookattheclothestogether.Theyarehere.Theyareallright.ButwhileIwasattheHomegettingthem,Iheardofsomepeoplethatwerehuntingalostboy.Iwenttoseethem,andwhattheytoldmewasallsoexactlylikewhatmighthavehappenedtoyouthatImusttellyou.Thenyou’llunderstandthatthingscouldbeverydifferentfromwhatyoualwayshavetorturedyourselfwiththinking.