The Chemist led him to the door. "This way," he said, looking at
him still confusedly, but with repugnance and avoidance, growing
out of his coldness. "I'll take you to her."

The sharp eyes in the child's head, wandering round the room,
lighted on the table where the remnants of the dinner were.

"Give me some of that!" he said, covetously.

"Has she not fed you?"

"I shall be hungry again to-morrow, sha'n't I? Ain't I hungry
every day?"

Finding himself released, he bounded at the table like some small
animal of prey, and hugging to his breast bread and meat, and his
own rags, all together, said:

"There! Now take me to the woman!"

As the Chemist, with a new-born dislike to touch him, sternly
motioned him to follow, and was going out of the door, he trembled
and stopped.

"The gift that I have given, you shall give again, go where you
will!"

The Phantom's words were blowing in the wind, and the wind blew
chill upon him.