‘Larrie!’ the sharp whisper came through the rain to the gate; the little metallic sound was made by her rings on the glass.
Then the door opened and Larrie drew her into the room, the blind fell down from its [p 113] ]pin at the movement, and now there was only a bar of light on the verandah.
‘It’s very cold,’ said the little mother with a shiver. And Wooster turned his eyes away and drove her home.
Dot went forward almost blindly towards Larrie, but he moved backwards, and she took two more steps but he fell back again. The room was small and he was against the wall now, but he put his arms behind him and stood sideways; he knew she wanted to put her head on his breast and cry. The attitudes would have looked almost comic, only something prevented it.
‘I wasn’t a success,’ she said with a great sob.
He did not speak or move a muscle.
‘Oh, I am so miserable,’ she said. Her arms went out towards the stiff figure, but he moved again.
‘Larrie!’ she cried, exceeding longing and misery in her voice.
But he let the cry die away into the midnight silence and he let her drop down on her [p 114] ]knees by the sofa and sob her young heart out on the piled cushions. He had frozen altogether during the hours of waiting.
Once she looked up during her bitter weeping.