"I've come from the Hard, but I took no account of the people I passed. A man has enough to do to look after himself, with the snow making icicles in his hair, and the wind trying to bite his nose off his face. The first law of nature, you know, doctor, is----"
"Humanity," interrupted Dr. Spenlove.
"No, no, doctor," corrected Mr. Moss; "number one's the first
law--number one, number one."
"You did not meet the woman, then?"
"Not to notice her. You've a bad cough, doctor; you'll have to take some of your own medicine." He laughed. "Standing here is enough to freeze one."
"I am sorry I troubled you," said Dr. Spenlove. "Good-night."
He was moving away when Mr. Moss detained him.
"But look here, doctor, you're not fit to be tramping the streets in this storm; you ought to be snuggled up between the blankets. Come home with me, and Mrs. Moss shall make you a hot grog."
Dr. Spenlove shook his head and passed on. Mr. Moss gazed at the retreating figure, his thoughts commingling.
"A charitable man, the good doctor, a large-hearted gentleman. 'Tardi si fa--' And poor as a church mouse. What woman is he running after? Mrs. Moss would give her a piece of her mind for taking out a baby on such a night. Too bad to let him go alone, but Mrs. Moss will be waiting up for me. She won't mind when I tell her. I've a good mind
to---- Yes, I will."