“But the bob-tailed mare bears the bells away.”
Inwardly she was thinking that a “funeral coach” was just what it was. Did its bells not ring the knell of all the peaceful past? Yes, it was the hearse of her past, of her youth. And somehow—somehow—she must readjust herself to the strange raw cruelty of the present.
V
She resettled him before his Bible. But when she returned from the stable, he had wandered again to the chest of drawers, and was now holding up the pot.
“And ye told me Oi was dreamin’!” he said angrily. “Why did ye lie to me?”
“What do you mean, Gran’fer?” she said, flushing.
“How did that pot come here?”
“I brought it, of course.”
“No, you dedn’t. Annie’s good-for-nawthen son brought it.”
“But I brought it in,” she persisted. “It was lying on the path.”