His words brought Tess to a standstill. The threat filled her with fear, for well she knew the elder's power. Still keeping hold of Boy's hand, she retraced her steps.
"Why did you come here?" she asked, fear and distaste making her voice cold and hard.
"To see you and ... him." Frederick pointed to the child, who was now hiding behind his mother's skirts.
"Well, now you've seen us."
Frederick stared at the speaker, his lips pursed with surprise. Was this Tess Skinner, the squatter girl? The voice was hers, but its tones were resonant with contempt! Face and form he recognized, but not the new poise, the dignity of her motherhood. The brown eyes he remembered as lighted by love, now expressed unutterable abhorrence.
"Tess, dear Tess," he pleaded, "let me talk to you."
Tess stooped over the child, rearranged his little waist, and pushed back the curly hair.
"Boy go home now, and mother'll come directly."
She kissed the bewildered upturned face. The baby couldn't understand what was going on.... Mummy seemed sad, and the nice man, who was so white and sick looking, had spoken angrily to his beautiful mother.
"I'd rather stay wif you," he lisped.