“I yike oo,” said the little girl in a voice so loud and clear that it could be heard all over the great room. “Would oo yike to kiss me?” The woman half-turned in her chair and looked at the boy coldly and steadily. As his eyes met hers the blood seemed to turn to ice in his veins. “Come here immediately,” she said to the little girl in the loud tone she had used down-stairs to the tall man. “What a horrid-looking boy! He has a sore on his face.” The boy grew petrified with fear and distress. As he reeled against one of the counters, with no more life in him than a stone, one of the women in black came up to him. “You have no right whatever to be here,” she said roughly. “How dare you come in!” The boy, numb with terror, could hardly apprehend that he was being addressed. “Miss Sharp,” said the woman in black, turning to one who was similarly attired, “fetch Mr. Parley. This boy has no right whatever to be here.” The tall man came up. “Mr. Parley,” said the woman in black, “this boy has been found in this department. Oughtn’t he to be searched?” “What do you mean by coming into this shop?” said the tall man, turning to the boy very roughly. “I--I--I d-don’t think I know, sir,” the boy stammered in a voice that was not audible. The woman with the little girl rose from her chair suddenly. “Why, where is my purse!” she cried in a tone of angry surprise. A great outcry seemed to arise all at once. Excited street-persons sprang into being on this side and that. They emerged from behind curtains, doorways and recesses; they came pressing forward until they formed a circle of startled faces around the boy. One and all seemed to be staring with incredulous dismay at an object in their midst. When the boy had recovered a little from the shock of being addressed in a public manner by street-persons, he began to look about him with a sense of bewilderment, which, however, was quite impersonal. He appeared to be standing in the centre of some strange incident, yet seek as he might he could not discern its nature. The buzz of eager tongues all around seemed to be discussing, that is as far as he could apprehend the queer language that they spoke, some remarkable creature who in sober verity did not appear to be present at all. “How shocking it is to see crime stamped on such a young face!” he could distinguish as the indignantly spoken words of the street-woman who had lost her purse. “I do hope the police won’t be long,” said one of the women in black. “You are sure, Miss Sharp, you saw no confederates?” he heard the tall man say. “There were no confederates,” said an angular woman with great impressiveness. “Ah!” said another woman, drawing a breath of relief, “here’s the police.”