“I must see him now,” I said; “is he well?”
“Yes,” she answered—regretfully, I thought.
We went to the nursery. He was sitting on the floor, playing with his toys. She stood between him and me, as though shielding him. It was Sterling—Sterling as he must have looked at the age of two and a half—an eager, intelligent face, long, deformed arms, a great breadth of chest, a vulpine look in his eyes....
As his eyes caught mine, his whole body stiffened. He put up a little hand against his face and made a sound of rage.
I do not know what movement I made, but Judith, suddenly stooping, caught her child up from the floor and folded him in her arms.
“You must not touch him!” she said, pale and distraught.
And she placed a hungry kiss upon his lips....
And so, my dear friend, farewell.