“I—I don’t want to see who comes out,” the child said, her face suddenly distorted.
There was a sharp sound of something falling within, then Collier Pratt’s voice raised loud in anger.
“You’d better go now,” he said, “before you do any more damage. I don’t want you here. Once and for all I tell you that there is no place for you in my life. Weeping and wailing won’t do you any good. The only thing for you to do is to get out and stay out.”
This was answered by an indistinguishable outburst.
“I won’t tell you where the child is,” Collier 247 Pratt said steadily. “She’s well taken care of. God knows you never took care of her. There’s nothing you can do, you know. You might sue for a restitution of conjugal rights, I suppose, but if you drag this thing into the courts I’ll fight it out to the end. I swear I will.”
“You brute,—you—”
At the first clear sound of the woman’s voice the child at Nancy’s side broke into sobs of convulsive terror.
“Take me away, Miss Dear. Oh! take me away from here, quickly, quickly, I’m so frightened. I’m so afraid she’ll come out and get me. It’s my mother,” she moaned.