He also, appeared very fragile and in his childish face was reproduced much of the delicate prettiness which she had once possessed.

His feminine appearance was increased by the fact that his yellow hair hung in long curls on his shoulders.

The pride with which his mother regarded this long hair was by no means shared by Frankie himself, for he was always entreating her to cut it off.
Presently the boy stood up and walking gravely over to the window, looked down into the street, scanning the pavement for as far as he could see: he had been doing this at intervals for the last hour.
'I wonder wherever he's got to,' he said, as he returned to the fire.
'I'm sure I don't know,' returned his mother.

'Perhaps he's had to work overtime.' 'You know, I've been thinking lately,' observed Frankie, after a pause, 'that it's a great mistake for Dad to go out working at all.

I believe that's the very reason why we're so poor.' 'Nearly everyone who works is more or less poor, dear, but if Dad didn't go out to work we'd be even poorer than we are now.