He raised a determined hand to the doorknob--he had something to say to that woman!--when the door suddenly opened again from the inside.
"See here, boy," began the woman, looking out at him a little less unkindly, "if you're hungry I'll give you some milk and bread.

Go around to the back porch and I'll get it for you." And she shut the door again.
David's hand dropped to his side.

The red still stayed on his face and neck, however, and that fierce new something within him bade him refuse to take food from this woman....

But there was his father--his poor father, who was so tired; and there was his own stomach clamoring to be fed.

No, he could not refuse.