She slipped from his embrace. He made no effort to detain her: conceiving her secure in his possession. A moment she stood staring at the floor, lost to her surroundings: then quickly turned to look upon him—her face aglow with some high tenderness.
"Asleep?" she asked, her voice low, tremulous.
"Sound asleep."
"How do you know that he's asleep?" she pursued. "Asleep? No; he ain't asleep." She paused—now woebegone. "He's wide awake—waiting," she went on. "He's waiting—just like he used to do—for me to come in.... He's awake. Oh, sore little heart! He's lying alone in the dark—waiting. And his mother will not come.... Last night, Jim, when I come in, he was there in the bed, awake and waiting. 'Oh, mother,' says he, 'I'm glad you're come at last. I been waiting so long. It's lonesome here in the dark without you. And to-morrow I'll wake, and wait, and wait; but you will not come!' He's awake, Jim. Don't you tell me no different. The pillow's wet with his tears.... Lonely child—waiting for me! Oh, little heart of my baby! Oh, sore little heart!"
"Millie!"
"It ain't no use no more, Jim. You better go home. I'm all alone. My child's not here. But—he's somewhere. And it's him I love."
The man sighed and went away....
Left alone, she put the little room in order and made the bed, blinded by tears, her steps uncertain: muttering incoherently of her child, whimpering broken snatches of lullaby songs. When there was no more work left for her hands to do, she staggered to the bureau, and from the lower drawer took a great, flaunting doll, which she had there kept, poor soul! against the time when her arms would be empty, her bosom aching for a familiar weight upon it. And for a time she sat rocking the cold counterfeit, crooning, faintly singing, caressing it; but she had known the warmth, the sweet restlessness, the soft, yielding form of the living child, and could not be content. Presently, in a surge of disgust, she flung the substitute violently from her.
"It ain't no baby," she moaned, putting her hands to her face. "It's only a doll!"
She sank limp to the floor. There she lay prone—the moonlight falling softly upon her, but healing her not at all.