“Then--then it's--it's like saying good-by,” he said, and the broken note was back again in his voice. “It's--it's so many years that mabbe you've forgotten, but when you were a little girl, and before you grew up, and--and were too big for that, I--I used to hold you in my arms, and you used to put your little arms around my neck, and kiss me, and--and you used to say that--Hawkins would never let the bugaboos get you, and--and I wonder if--if----” “Oh, Hawkins!” Claire's eyes were full of tears. “I remember. Dear, dear Hawkins! And I used to call you Daddy Hawkins. Do _you_ remember?” A tear found a furrow and trickled down the old weather-beaten face unchecked, as Hawkins raised his head. “Claire! Claire!” His voice trembled in its yearning. “Will--will you say that again, Claire?” “Dear Daddy Hawkins,” she whispered. His arms stretched out to her, and she came to them smiling through her tears. “You've been so good to me,” she whispered again. “You _are_ so good to me--dear, dear Daddy Hawkins.” A wondrous light was in the old cabman's face. He held the slight form to him, trying to be so tenderly careful that he should not hurt her in his strength. He kissed her, and patted her head, and his fingers lingered as they smoothed the hair back from where it made a tiny curl about her ear. And then he felt her drawing him toward the couch--and he became conscious that Paul Veniza was holding out his hands to them both. And Claire knelt at the side of the couch and took one of Paul Veniza's hands, and Hawkins took the other. And no one of them looked into the other's face. The outer door opened, and Doctor Crang came in. He stood for an instant surveying the scene, a half angry, half sarcastic smile spreading over his sallow face, and then he shrugged his shoulders. “Ah, you're here, like me, ahead of time, Hawkins, I see!” he said shortly. “You're going to drive me to Staten Island where----” Claire rose to her feet. “I have told Hawkins,” she said quietly. Hawkins' hand tightened over Paul Veniza's for a moment, and then he turned away. “I--I'll wait outside,” said Hawkins--and brushed has hand across his eyes as he went through the doorway. Paul Veniza was racked with a sudden fit of coughing again. Doctor Crang walked quickly to the couch and looked at the other sharply. After a moment he turned to Claire. “Are you ready to go?” he asked crisply. “Yes; I am ready,” she answered steadily. “Very well, then,” said Crang, “you had better go out and get into the old bus. You can go with Hawkins and me.” “But”--Claire looked in a bewildered way at Paul Veniza--“but you said----”