“May, it’s madness. Here, I forgot—take this.”
Tom took off his coat and held it out for her.
“No, Tom, it’s all right; I don’t want anything more.”
“I insist on your putting it on,” said Tom.
“Please, Tom.”
“May, do as you are told,” said Tom. “My darling, you shall put it on. I really mean it!”
Tom had his way, and the two walked quickly on again, Tom’s long coat almost touching the ground, and the sleeves coming nearly to the tips of her fingers. This time May thrust her hand through Tom’s arm.
“You’re very good to me,” she said. “Ah, here’s the house! Come inside; you can’t wait in the snow. They will all be in the other room.”
A woman, with eyes red with weeping, opened the door to them, and as soon as she saw May, burst out crying again.
“Thank God you’ve come, miss,” she said. “He’s been asking for you all the evening, and he’s far gone. And how are you, Master Tom? Won’t you come by the fire, sir? You’re all over snow. It’s a poor fire, I’m afraid, but we’ve had no time to think of aught to-day.”