"Go to the pump, Nab," he said, when this was done, "and fill a pail with water. "Fool!" he cried, "do you think I wouldn't have secured you before this if I hadn't some motive for my forbearance?" "And that motive is fear," replied Jack contemptuously. “I feared we might have a fog. He reappeared in street clothes, his cropped hair not even damp from the shower, fresh-faced and sweetsmelling. At first she thought he was endeavouring to rid himself of the fleas, but after a time she came to understand that the muck had healing qualities and soothed the burning scratches made by his claws. The boy was bright and inquisitive as he was subtle.
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