It will want water if rain don't come, by and by." "What's you ?" was Molly's next question, given with more directness.
"Me?
I am Daisy Randolph.

And I love flowers; and you love flowers.

May I come and see you sometimes?
Will you let me ?" Molly's grunt this time was not unintelligible.

It was queer, but there was certainly a tone of assent in it.

She sat looking now at the "Jewess" blossoms and now at Daisy.
"And I love Jesus," the child went on.