Page:Ragged Trousered Philanthropists.djvu/86

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The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists


large nails or hooks into one of the walls. For that matter, there were already some clothes hooks on some of the doors. He began to think that this would be a more excellent way than poison: he could easily pretend to Frankie that he was going to show him some new kind of play. The boy would offer no resistance, and in a few minutes it would all be over.

He threw down the book and pressed his hands over his ears. He fancied he could hear the boy's hands and feet beating against the panels of the door as he struggled in his death agony.

Then, as his arms fell nervelessly by his side again, he thought he heard Frankie's voice calling:

'Dad! Dad!'

Owen hastily opened the door.

'Are you calling, Frankie?'

'Yes. I've been calling you quite a long time.'

'What do you want?'

'I want you to come here. I want to tell you something.'

'Well, what is it, dear? I thought you were asleep a long time ago,' said Owen, as he came into the room.

'That's just what I want to speak to you about. The kitten's gone to sleep all right, but I can't go. I've tried all different ways, counting and all, but it's no use, so I thought I'd ask you if you'd mind coming and staying with me, and letting me hold your hand for a little while, and then p'raps I could go.'

The boy twined his arms round Owen's neck and hugged him very tightly.

'Oh, Dad, I love you so much!' he said, 'I love you so much, I could squeeze you to death.'

'I'm afraid you will, if you squeeze me so tightly as that.'

The boy laughed softly as he relaxed his hold.

'That would be a funny way of showing you how much I loved you, wouldn't it, Dad? Squeezing you to death!'

'Yes, I suppose it would,' replied Owen, huskily, as he tucked the bedclothes round the child's shoulders. 'But don't talk any more, dear, just hold my hand and try to sleep.'

Lying there very quietly, holding his father's hand and occasionally kissing it, the child presently fell asleep.

Then Owen got up very gently and went into the bedroom. Nora was still awake.

'Are you feeling any better, dear?' he said.

'Yes; I'm ever so much better since I've been in bed, but

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