"Taken him away from you?" Pemberton exclaimed indignantly.
"Do it--do it for pity's sake; that's just what I want. I can't stand
_this_--and such scenes. They're awful frauds--poor dears!" These words
broke from Morgan, who had intermitted his embrace, in a key which made
Pemberton turn quickly to him and see that he had suddenly seated
himself, was breathing in great pain, and was very pale.
"_Now_ do you say he's not in a state, my precious pet?" shouted his
mother, dropping on her knees before him with clasped hands, but touching
him no more than if he had been a gilded idol. "It will pass--it's only
for an instant; but don't say such dreadful things!"
"I'm all right--all right," Morgan panted to Pemberton, whom he sat
looking up at with a strange smile, his hands resting on either side of
the sofa.
"Now do you pretend I've been dishonest, that I've deceived?" Mrs. Moreen
flashed at Pemberton as she got up.
"It isn't _he_ says it, it's I!" the boy returned, apparently easier, but
sinking back against the wall; while his restored friend, who had sat
down beside him, took his hand and bent over him.
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