HE COULD NOT MOVE FOR a moment, then he sprang to his feet and ran towards her. She looked pale and dazed, and she held something in her arms; something wrapped up in her scarf. As he pressed her to him, the something in the bundle struggled against his breast and emitted a squall—just like the squall of a cat. He drew back, and Emmeline, tenderly moving her scarf a bit aside, exposed a wee face. It was brick-red and wrinkled; there were two bright eyes, and a tuft of dark hair over the forehead. Then the eyes closed, the face screwed itself up, and the thing sneezed twice.
“Where did you GET it?” he asked, absolutely lost in astonishment as she covered the face again gently with the scarf.
“I found it in the woods,” replied Emmeline.
Dumb with amazement, he helped her along to the hous
