It hurt him so, that the pain brought tears to his eyes.
"Deary girl," he cried, "I'd give you anything you could think of if I
had it. But I can't get it, see? It ain't that I don't want to--good
Lord, little 'un, you don't think that, do you?"
The baby smiled at this, just as though she understood him, and
touched his face as if to comfort him, so that Rags felt that same
exquisite content again, which moved him so strangely whenever the
child caressed him, and which left him soberly wondering. Then the
baby crawled up onto his lap and dropped asleep, while Rags sat
motionless and fanned her with a folded newspaper, stopping every now
and then to pass the damp cloth over her warm face and arms. It was
quite late now. Outside he could hear the neighbors laughing and
talking on the roofs, and when one group sang hilariously to an
accordion, he cursed them under his breath for noisy, drunken fools,
and in his anger lest they should disturb the child in his arms,
expressed an anxious hope that they would fall off and break their
useless necks. It grew silent and much cooler as the night ran out,
but Rags still sat immovable, shivering slightly every now and then
and cautiously stretching his stiff legs and body.
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