He didn't attempt to say anything.
"Oh, my goodness!" exclaimed old Mr. King, starting backward and
putting up his hands to his face to shut out the sight. "Cover it up,
man--bless me--no need to ask him a question. Why, the fellow is
starving."
His little children--four of them--his wife--all starving--hadn't a bit
to eat since, he could scarcely say when, it seemed so very long ago
since he had eaten last--it all came out in a torrent of words that
choked him, and like the true Frenchman that he was, he gestured in a
way that told the story with his face and his fingers, as well as with
his tongue.
A _sergent de ville_ strolled by and looked curiously at the
group, but as Mr. King met his eye coolly, and the party seemed
intelligent and well able to take care of themselves, it wasn't
necessary to tender his services--if they were talking to a worthless
vagabond.
"Hum--hum--very bad case; very bad case, indeed!" Mr. King was
exploding at intervals, while the torrent was rushing on in execrable
French as far as accent went. No one else of the spellbound group could
have spoken if there had been occasion for a word. Then he pulled out
the pocket-book again, and taking out several franc notes of a good
size, he pressed them between the man's dirty fingers. "Go and get
something to eat," was all he said, "and take care of the children."
XVII
"I'VE FOUND HIM!" EXCLAIMED JASPER
And for the next few days Phronsie talked about the poor man, and
wished they could see his children, and hoped he had bought them some
nice things to eat, and worried over him because he was all skin and
bones.
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