One glance at her and Jinnie lost her own color.
"I want to speak with you just a moment," the woman said beseechingly. "May I come in?"
Without answering, Jinnie backed into the room, which action Molly took as a signal to enter.
She inclined her head haughtily to the cobbler.
"Would you mind if I spoke to Miss Grandoken alone?"
Lafe looked to Jinnie for acquiescence.
"If Jinnie'll help me to the kitchen," he replied, "you can talk here. I'm a little unsteady on my feet yet, miss!"
It took some time for the tottering legs to bear him away, but the strong, confident girl helped him most patiently.
"You might just slip me the baby, Jinnie," said Lafe, after he was seated in the kitchen. "I could be lookin' at 'im while you're talkin'. You ain't mindin' the woman, honey lass, be you?"
"No, dear," answered Jinnie.
This done, the girl returned to Molly, who stood at the window staring out upon the tracks. She turned quickly, and Jinnie noticed her eyes were full of tears.
"I suppose you won't refuse to tell me something of my--my little boy?" she pleaded.
Tears welled over Jinnie's lids too. Bobbie's presence and adoration were still fresh in her mind.
"He's dead," she mourned. "My little Bobbie! Poor little hurt Bobbie!"
Molly made a passionate gesture with her gloved hands.
"Don't, please don't say those things! I'm so miserable I can't think of him. I only wanted to know how you got him."