| Title | The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists |
 |
|
| Page | 223 |
|
|
| Chapter | -- |
|
|
| Text |
`death.' `I'm afraid you will, if you squeeze me so tightly as that.' The boy laughed softly as he relaxed his hold. `That WOULD be a funny way of showing you how much I love you, wouldn't it, Dad? Squeezing you to death!' `Yes, I suppose it would,' replied Owen huskily, as he tucked the bedclothes round the child's shoulders. `But don't talk any more, dear; just hold my hand and try to sleep.' `All right,' said Frankie. Lying there very quietly, holding his father's hand and occasionally kissing it, the child presently fell asleep. Then Owen got up very gently and, having taken the kitten out of the bed again and arranged the bedclothes, he softly kissed the boy's forehead and returned to the other room. |
|
|
|
|
