" 'Tis not my baby!" she
cried. She scanned the face of the second infant--again she
moaned.
Having begun to identify this hysterical creature as the possible
mother of the third infant, O'Flarety jerked his head in the
direction of the cradle.
"I guess you'll find what you're lookin' for in there," he said.
Then bidding Maggie to "git along out o' this" and shrugging his
shoulders to convey his contempt for the fugitive beneath the
coverlet, he swept quickly from the room.
Clasping her long-sought darling to her heart and weeping with
delight, the Italian mother was about to follow O'Flarety through
the door when Zoie staggered into the room, weak and exhausted.
"You, you!" called the indignant Zoie to the departing mother.
"How dare you lock my husband in the bathroom?" She pointed to
the key, which the woman still unconsciously clasped in her hand.
"Give me that key," she demanded, "give it to me this instant."
"Take your horrid old key," said the mother, and she threw it on
the floor. "If you ever try to get my baby again, I'll lock your
husband in JAIL," and murmuring excited maledictions in her
native tongue, she took her welcome departure.
Zoie stooped for the key, one hand to her giddy head, but Aggie,
who had just returned to the room, reached the key first and
volunteered to go to the aid of the captive Alfred, who was
pounding desperately on the bathroom door and demanding his
instant release.
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