Jane had something she wished to say to him--wished very much indeed, yet she felt it would have been difficult even if he had encouraged her.

As he kept silence and walked so quickly, speech on her part was utterly forbidden.

Kirkwood, however, suddenly remembered that his strides were disproportionate to the child's steps.

She was an odd figure thus disguised in his over-jacket; he caught a glimpse of her face by a street lamp, and smiled, but with a mixture of pain.
'Feel a bit warmer so ?' he asked.
'Oh yes, sir.' 'Haven't you got a jacket, Jane ?' 'It's all to pieces, sir.

They're goin' to have it mended, I think.' 'They' was the word by which alone Jane ventured to indicate her aunt.
'Going to, eh?
I think they'd better be quick about it.' Ha! that was the old tone of kindness! How it entered into her blood and warmed it! She allowed herself one quick glance at him.
'Do I walk too quick for you ?' 'Oh no, sir.