“Can’t I see the faywies some time, Betty?” asked St. Elmo.,
The boy gave her a squeeze that made her last words come in jerks. “That’s a mean trick to play on a fellow,—chuck such a responsibility on a twelve-year-old. Say I must or I mustn’t, mamma.” He caught her hand and gently tweaked her fingers.,
“And I’m always going to be your little girl, too,” the child pleaded; “so Billy must be my papa’s little boy.”.
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