The room was shabby and well worn.

A rag carpet covered the floor.

The white plastered walls had pictures cut from newspapers and magazines pinned upon them to break the monotony.

The floor was littered also with toys, clothing, and tools, which the baby had pulled about, but the room wrought powerfully upon the boy's heart, giving him the first real touch of homesickness he had felt since leaving the Burns' farm that bright March day, now so far away it seemed that it was deep in the past.

For a few moments he could not speak, and the girl was equally silent.