r me?"

"O-oh," she debated with herself, "a long, long time. I thought you
would never wake up."

"And I thought you was a fairy when I first seen you."

He felt elated at his contribution to the conversation.

"No, not a fairy," she smiled.

He thrilled in a strange, numb way at the immaculate whiteness of her
small even teeth.

"I was just the good Samaritan," she added.

"I reckon I never heard of that party."

He was cudgelling his brains to keep the conversation going. Never
having been at close quarters with a child since he was man-grown, he
found it difficult.

"What a funny man not to know about the good Samaritan. Don't you
remember? A certain man went down to Jericho--"

"I reckon I've been there," he interrupted.

"I knew you were a traveller!" she cried, clapping her hands. "Maybe you
saw the exact spot."

"What spot?"

"Why, where he fell among thieves and was left half dead. And then the
good Samaritan went to him, and bound up his wounds, and poured in oil
and wine--was that olive oil, do you think?"

He shook his head slowly.

"I reckon you got me there. Olive oil is something the dagoes cooks
with. I never heard of it for busted heads."

She considered his statement for a moment.

"Well," she announced, "we use olive oil in our cooking, so we must be
dagoes. I never knew what they were before. I thought it was slang."

"And the Samaritan dumped oil on his head," the tramp muttered
reminiscently. "Seems to me I recollect a sky pilot sayin' something
about that old gent. D'ye know, I've been looking for him off'n' on all
my life, and never scared up hide or hair of him. They ain't no more
Samaritans."

"Wasn't I one?" she asked quickly.

He looked at her steadily, with a great curiosity and wonder. Her ear,
by a movement exposed to the sun, was transparent. It seemed he could
almost see through it. He was amazed at the delicacy of her colouring,
at the blue of her eyes, at the dazzle of the sun-touched golden hair.
And he was astounded by her fragility. It came to him that she was
easily broken. His eye went quickly from his huge, gnarled paw to her
tiny hand in which it seemed to him he could almost see the blood
circulate. He knew the power in his muscles, and he knew the tricks and
turns by which men use their bodies to ill-treat men. In fact, he knew
little else, and his mind for the time ran in its customary channel. It
was his way of measuring the beautiful strangeness o