“The five years would be over next October. I knew it would come some day, but I never thought of it so soon, and to take them away in a few days!”
“I remember now,” said Frithiof; “there is a rule that by good behavior in prison they can slightly shorten their time. I am so sorry for you; it will be a fearful wrench to you to part with Lance and Gwen.”
She locked her hands together, making no attempt at an answer.
“How exactly like the world,” thought Frithiof to himself. “Here is a girl passionately devoted to these children, while the mother, who never deserved them at all, has utterly deserted them. To have had them for five years and then suddenly to lose them altogether, that is a fearful blow for her; they ought to have thought of it before adopting the children.”
“Is there nothing I can do to help you?” he said, turning toward her. “Shall I go and fetch Lance and Gwen?”
With an effort she stood up.
“No, no,” she said, trying hard to speak cheerfully. “Don’t let this spoil your game. I am better, I will go and find them.”
But by a sudden impulse he sprang up, made her take his arm and walked to the house with her.
“You are still rather shaky, I think,” he said. “Let me come with you, I can at any rate save you the stairs. How strange it was that you should have known beforehand that this was coming! Did you ever have a presentiment of that kind over anything else?”
“Never,” she said. “It was such an awful feeling. I wonder what it is that brings it.”