"The Lord be with thee—" came the deep musical voice of the priest.
"And with thy spirit," muttered Mrs. Talbot.
There was a moment of silence, then came a knock at the door. It was repeated twice, imperatively.
Then the door was opened from outside and Carl Schroeder, president of the Fortieth Ward Club, entered, half carrying and half guiding Jim Connor, who was stupidly drunk.
Schroeder placed Jim in a chair and quickly slunk out. Jim swayed an instant in the chair, trying to hold his balance, then fell forward out of it. His hand struck the crib as he lay inert, unknowing, obscene.
Georgia looked at him for an instant, she began to giggle, to laugh. Her laughter grew louder and louder. It came in waves, each wilder and higher than the last.
Georgia Laughed.
It was long before they could quiet her.