"Mark," she asked shakily, "was it—"
"Yes, it's David." His voice was a monotone. "Our son. I've completed the formalities. For now the only thing we can do is go home."
"I'm going to him!" She tried to pass. He caught her wrist. Discretely the taxi driver pretended to doze.
"No, Edith! There's no need. You mustn't—see him!"
"He's my son!" she cried. "Let me go!"
"No! What have you got under your coat?"
"It's the bell, the rose-crystal bell!" she cried. "I'm going to ring it where David can hear!"
Defiantly she brought forth her hand, clutching the little bell. "It brought you back, Mark! Now it's going to bring back David!"
"Edith!" he said in horror. "You mustn't believe that's possible. You can't. Those were coincidences. Now let me have it."
"No! I'm going to ring it." Violently she tried to break out of his grip. "I want David back! I'm going to ring the bell!"