Heed not the rain and the wind, dear,
Watch o’er her sweet
Mother will keep,
And up in the sky there is God, dear.’
Some one opened the front door, and the sound of the rain grew louder, then the [p 90] ]dining-room handle was turned. Dot gave a little whispered cry of surprise. ‘Larrie!’ she said, but so softly that baby’s hand never stirred.
It was hours before his usual time, and never before had he shortened his voluntarily imposed exile.
She noticed how exceedingly wet he was, there was not a dry thread upon him, the water was even now pouring off him and making a pool on the floor. Then she saw the white passion on his face, the terrible look of his lips, his eyes. She laid the child down on the sofa cushions and went towards him slowly, and with fading colour. What dreadful thing was coming?
‘Larrie!’ she said, a frightened tremble in her voice, as she put out her hands to touch him. But the anger in his eyes deepened. He went closer to her, he actually grasped her roughly by the shoulders and shook her.
‘How dared you?’ he said. ‘How dared you?’
She looked at him with parted lips and [p 91] ]widening eyes. She could find nothing to say so intense was her amaze.