"I think Jerrold's the wonderfullest person in the whole world. When I
grow up I'm going to be like him."
"You couldn't be."
"Not now. But when I'm grown-up, I say."
"You couldn't be. Not even then. Jerrold can't sing and he can't play."
"I don't care."
"But you mustn't do what he can't if you want to be like him."
"When I'm singing and playing I shall pretend I'm not."
"You needn't. You won't ever be him."
"I--shall."
"Col-Col, I don't want you to be like him. I don't want anybody else to
be like Jerrold in the whole world."
"But," said Colin, "I shall be like him."
xiv Every night Adeline still came to see Anne in bed. The little thing had
left off pretending to be asleep. She lay with eyes wide open, yielding
sweetly to the embrace.
To-night her eyelids lay shut, slack on her eyes, and Adeline thought
"She's really asleep, the little lamb. Better not touch her."
She was going away when a sound stopped her. A sound of sobbing.
"Anne--Anne--are you crying?"
A tremulous drawing-in of breath, a shaking under the bed-clothes. On
Anne's white cheek the black eyelashes were parted and pointed with her
tears. She had been crying a long time.
Adeline knelt down, her face against Anne's face.
"What is it darling? Tell me."
Anne shivered.
"Oh Anne, I wish you loved me. You don't, ducky, a little bit."
"I do. I do. Really and truly."
"Then give me a kiss. The proper kind."
Anne gave her the tight, deep kiss that was the proper kind.
"Now--tell me what it is." She knew by Anne's surrender that, this time,
it was not her mother.
"I don't know."
"You _do_ know. Is it Jerry? Do you want Jerry?"
At the name Anne's crying broke out again, savage, violent.
Adeline held her close and let the storm beat itself out against her
heart.
"You can't want him more than I do, little Anne."
"You'll have him when he comes back. And I shan't. I shall be gone."
"You'll come again, darling. You'll come again."