He had
been away and his first thought upon returning was of his little
daughter. How glad she would be to see him! How she would run
and throw herself into his arms, to be crushed to his breast and
covered with his kisses. Korak sighed. He thought of his own
father and mother far away in london.
He returned to his place in the tree above the girl. If he couldn't
have happiness of this sort himself he wanted to enjoy the happiness
of others. Possibly if he made himself known to the old man he
might be permitted to come to the village occasionally as a friend.
It would be worth trying. He would wait until the old Arab had
greeted his daughter, then he would make his presence known with
signs of peace.
The Arab was striding softly toward the girl. In a moment he would
be beside her, and then how surprised and delighted she would be!
Korak's eyes sparkled in anticipation--and now the old man stood
behind the little girl. His stern old face was still unrelaxed.
The child was yet unconscious of his presence. She prattled on to
the unresponsive Geeka. Then the old man coughed.
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