"It--it was the same as yours," she ventured, barely breathing in her
fear.
Still Freckles lay rigid and whiter than the coverlet.
"Would that boy be as old as me?" he asked.
"Yes," said the Angel faintly.
"Angel," said Freckles at last, catching her wrist, "are you trying to
tell me that there is somebody hunting a boy that you're thinking might
be me? Are you belavin' you've found me relations?"
Then the Angel's eyes came home. The time had come. She pinioned
Freckles' arms to his sides and bent above him.
"How strong are you, dear heart?" she breathed. "How brave are you? Can
you bear it? Dare I tell you that?"
"No!" gasped Freckles. "Not if you're sure! I can't bear it! I'll die if
you do!"
The day had been one unremitting strain with the Angel. Nerve tension
was drawn to the finest thread. It snapped suddenly.
"Die!" she flamed. "Die, if I tell you that! You said this morning that
you would die if you DIDN'T know your name, and if your people were
honorable. Now I've gone and found you a name that stands for ages of
honor, a mother who loved you enough to go into the fire and die for
you, and the nicest kind of relatives, and you turn round and say you'll
die over that! YOU JUST TRY DYING AND YOU'LL GET A GOOD SLAP!"
The Angel stood glaring at him.
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