"Your babies are safe."
"HER babies!" snorted O'Flarety, unable longer to control his
pent up indignation.
"I'll let you know when I want to hear from you," snarled the
officer to O'Flarety.
"But they're NOT her babies," protested the Italian woman
desperately.
"Cut it," shouted the officer, and with low mutterings, the
outraged parents were obliged to bide their time.
Lifting Zoie to a sitting posture Alfred fanned her gently until
she regained her senses. "Your babies are all right," he assured
her. "I've brought them all back to you."
"All?" gasped Zoie weakly, and she wondered what curious fate had
been intervening to assist Alfred in such a prodigious
undertaking.
"Yes, dear," said Alfred, "every one," and he pointed toward the
three infants in the officer's arms. "See, dear, see."
Zoie turned her eyes upon what SEEMED to her numberless red
faces. "Oh!" she moaned and again she swooned.
"I told you she'd be afraid to face us," shouted the now
triumphant O'Flarety.
"You brute!" retorted the still credulous Alfred, "how dare you
persecute this poor demented mother?"
Alfred's persistent solicitude for Zoie was too much for the
resentful Italian woman.
"She didn't persecute me, oh no!" she exclaimed sarcastically.
"Keep still, you!" commanded the officer.
Again Zoie was reviving and again Alfred lifted her in his arms
and begged her to assure the officer that the babies in question
were hers.
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