“Oh,
thanks very much!”
I
got up, scuttled over, and took a bun. I quickly bowed and eagerly returned to
my seat next to the older boy and began to tuck in. Rank was watching me
closely. With me right by him, he could see, and really smell, how delicious
the little treat was.
Rank
looked over at the girl, brows knotted. She offered the basket again in
challenge, holding it out a bit farther with a little shake, as if enticing a
reluctant dog. Rank had a moment when his pride fought with his hunger – it
came to me that his lank body might not be so much natural physique as a result
of poverty – then he stood stiffly, walked over, and accepted a bun in defiance,
as if to prove her generosity was hypocritical.
“Ma’am.”
His voice was chilly. He stalked back,
sat down, and took a bite. For a fleeting second there was an expression of
naked bliss; that vanished behind a mask of indifference as he finished the
pastry – in rather hurried bites. He sat back with a that’s-that look, but he
cut his eyes rather furtively at the basket once or twice. The girl pretended
to ignore him.
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