for getting next the people who have things happening to them that I
can make society stuff out of, you know. Biker didn't make a hit of
it, but, gee! I've just got to. I've got to."

"Yes," answered Little Ann, her eyes fixed on him thoughtfully;
"you've got to, Mr. Tembarom."

"There's not a soul in the parlor. Would you mind coming down and
sitting there while I talk at you and try to work things out? You
could go on with your marking."

She thought it over a minute.

"I'll do it if Father can spare me," she made up her mind. "I'll go
and ask him."

She went to ask him, and returned in two or three minutes with her
small sewing-basket in her hand.

"He can spare me," she said. "He's reading his paper, and doesn't
want to talk."

They went down-stairs together and found the room empty. Tembarom
turned up the lowered gas, and Little Ann sat down in the cozy-corner
with her work-basket on her knee. Tembarom drew up a chair and sat
down opposite to her. She threaded a needle and took up one of Jim's
new socks.

"Now," she said.