"How hot your hand is," she continued. "Here, let me feel again. It is burning. And your forehead is the same. Are you unwell, Matabel?"
"I am cold," she answered dreamily.
"You have been over-worried and worked," said the kind old woman.
"I will get you a cup of tea."
"He won't follow me any more and try to take my baby away," said
Mehetabel.
"I am glad of that."
"And I also."
Then she moved her seat, winding and bending on one side.
"What is it, my dear?" asked Betty.
"His shadow. It will follow me and fall over baby."
"What do you mean?"