"You go away," she said quietly, yet with a thrilling apprehension. "I can't let you in."
They stepped back from the door and looked up at her. She seemed even thinner than when Nan had seen her last, and to Raven all the sorrows of woman were darkling in the anguish of her eyes. He spoke quietly, making his voice reassuring to her.
"Why can't you? Have you been told not to?"
"No," said Tira, quick, he thought, to shield her persecutor, "nobody's said a word. But they've gone off, an' you can't be certain when they'll be back."
"Hasn't he gone to the street?" Raven asked her, and now her voice, in its imploring hurry, could not urge him earnestly enough.
"He said he was goin'. You can't tell. He may turn round an' come back. An' I wouldn't have you here—either o' you—for anything in this world."
But though she said "either of you," her eyes were on Raven, beseeching him to go. He did not answer that. In a few words he set forth their plan. She was to take the child and come. It was to be now. But she would hardly listen.
"No," she called, in any pause between his words. "No! no! no!"
"Don't you want to save the child?" Raven asked her sternly. "Have you forgotten what may happen to him?"
She had her answer ready.