How fresh the splinters keep, and fine,
Only a touch and we combine.’
Dot felt the emptiness of her arms. Then she remembered the bitterness and horror of her humiliation.
To nearly all human beings there come during the course of life some moments of complete madness and irresponsibility—Dot’s came upon her now.
She was on her knees by the window; sometimes she beat her head against the wood-work—wild tears were coursing down her cheeks, sobs of impotent anger choked her.
[p 155]
]Wooster came up the staircase alone, the little mother had sent him to say good-bye, and to tell Dot she could not leave the sick woman for an hour. The sitting room door was open.
‘Great heavens!’ he said, and sprang to her side in alarm, ‘you are ill—God!—what is the matter with you?’
Her sobs ceased, she turned her head and regarded him strangely, her eyes wet and brilliant seemed to pierce him. Then she laughed the most terrible little laugh in the world. ‘Why, you do love me after all!’ she said.
He fell back against the wall, utterly undone, his eyes seemed the only living part of him.
‘I didn’t believe him,’ she continued in the same tone.