It was somewhat besprent with blacks; but there the child could take an airing, unterrified, in a solitude _a trois_, and in a very fresh air, when a south or west wind blew.
By the afternoon of the next day he had grown used to Sir Tancred, and, when he was tired of his silent play with his toys, would sit on his knee in perfect content.

The skin of his face was almost white; now only his knees were really grimy.
On the evening of the fourth day, as he was having his supper, eating it with much less of the ravenous fervour of a wolf in winter-time, Sir Tancred distinctly saw him smile; it was very faint, but it was an undoubted smile.
Three mornings later Sir Tancred was lying awake, when his door was pushed wider open, and Tinker stole in: "Hallo, Tinker! Come here! You'll catch cold! What are you looking for ?" said Sir Tancred.
"Gee-gee," said Tinker.
"Come here, and get warm." After a little thought Tinker accepted the invitation, and Sir Tancred lifted him into bed.

He huddled up to Sir Tancred, and presently found that his unshaven chin was rough, and stroked it with some wonder.
"You _are_ a funny little Tinker," said Sir Tancred fondly.
"Mine Tinker.

Mine Tinker!" said the child with a faint crow..