But she affected to have heard nothing, and he was obliged to speak again.
"Now--why, _I_ know a doll that shuts up her eyes every time she lies down." The doll at hand was promptly extended on the little lap and with a click went into sudden sleep while the mother rocked it.

He could have ventured nothing more after this pricking of his inflated little speech.

A moment he stood, suffering moderately, and then would have edged cautiously away with the air of wishing to go, only at this point, without seeming to see him, she chirped to him quite winningly in a soft, warm little voice, and there was free talk at once.

He manfully let her tell of all her silly little presents before talking of his own.

He even listened about the doll, whose name Santa Claus had thoughtfully painted on the box in which she came; it was a French name, "Fragile." Then, being come to names, they told their own.