The next day he told the Manhattan newsies that he was returning to Brooklyn, but decided to take a stop at the Bronx. He had a plan to get Anne back.
"Who is it?" Miley, the door watchman of the Bronx lodging house, asked. "Spot," he replied. "Get in." Miley answered gruffly.
"Over in the corner of the sitting room Anne quickly looked up to see who the visitor was. She gasped at the sight of Spot and quickly covered her face with her copy of Little Women (author's note: My personal favorite book. Anne is based on myself if you haven't figured that out already) that she had been reading.
Of course Spot immediately recognized the quivering figure of Anne hiding behind the book, though he thought it would be a pleasure to take her by surprise.
When Spot got near enough he quickly snatched the book from Anne's grasp and began to laugh at her startled expression. "I thought I told you to leave me alone. I don't wish to see you," Anne sighed as she turned to leave.
He quickly grasped her thin arm so that she could not go a step further, "I know, but ya would kill me if I hadn't told ya a Pie's dyin' state." A look of terror passed across her soft featured face, but it was quickly replaced by a very fake look of irrelevance. "What? What is he ill?" she asked, still quite disturbed after hearing such news. " Not a sickness, but a heart ache,"
"Oh, well, I told him to forget him." "Well, seein' dat you ain't forgotten him how could he possibly forget you?" Spot grinned as he drummed his finger along the binding of her book he still clutched in his hand.
"What ever do you mean?" she asked, become very disturbed at the thought that he really knew what she was feeling.
"You ain't gunna fool me Anne. I saw it last night and I see it more today. You really do like him," he laughed. "This conversation has gone far enough. Good bye Mr. Conlon," Anne frowned as she went to the bunkroom, forgetting all about her book.