"I know that," said Sara, "but I thought I'd ask you."

"Not many would," said the woman, looking puzzled and interested and
good-natured all at once. "Do you want to buy something?" she added, as
she saw Sara glance toward the buns.

"Four buns, if you please," said Sara; "those at a penny each."

The woman went to the window and put some in a paper bag. Sara noticed
that she put in six.

"I said four, if you please," she explained. "I have only the
fourpence."

"I'll throw in two for make-weight," said the woman, with her
good-natured look. "I dare say you can eat them some time. Aren't you
hungry?"

A mist rose before Sara's eyes.

"Yes," she answered. "I am very hungry, and I am much obliged to you for
your kindness, and," she was going to add, "there is a child outside who
is hungrier than I am." But just at that moment two or three customers
came in at once and each one seemed in a hurry, so she could only thank
the woman again and go out.

The child was still huddled up on the corner of the steps. She looked
frightful in her wet and dirty rags. She was staring with a stupid look
of suffering straight before her, and Sara saw her suddenly draw the
back of her roughened, black hand across her eyes to rub away the tears