"Why, you’re just a little girl.”

Rachel Matos They all walked along together, the Irishmen bringing up the rear, Francis walking abreast of Allingham. The little girl ran up next to Francis and smiled. “What’s your name?”
“Francis.”
She pointed at Allingham. “What’s his name?”
“He’s the Captain. You just call him Captain.” He pointed back at the Irishmen. “That’s Mike and the other is Paddy. They’re twins, ya know.”
“I can see that.” She looked at him in a way that a little girl should not be familiar with when it came to looking at a man. “I ain’t seen you in the house.”
“No, no. Don’t do that sorta thing.” Francis looked away, embarrassed. He could feel his face redden.
“I do.” She grinned.
“Well, ya oughtn’t. It ain’t right. Why, you’re just a little girl.” Francis looked on at her with a pained expression. “Who clobbered ya anyway?”
“Oh, no one.” She skipped along and followed the men and Francis looked on and enjoyed the child acting like a child for a change. “What’s your name?”
“Janie.”
He tipped his hat. “Well, Miss Janie, where’s yer ma and pa?”
“Hah. I ain’t gotta pa. Ma’s a whore, but she died last spring. Now I’m on my own.”
Francis thought on it as he walked and watched the child. He should have made inquiries but he didn’t. He should have asked permission of the captain, or at least Hobbs, but didn’t.
He let Allingham and the Irishmen march on, and pulled Janie aside. He’d catch up to them eventually. “You come on with me, Miss Janie.” She smiled when he called her that, “You ain’t allowed in the brothel any longer, there’s an ordinance against that.”
“What’s a ordinance?” Allingham