“Since I left. It was hard at first.”
“When I saw ye in the street that day—”
She nodded. “Yes; I was just out of rehearsal.”
Then the devil's pride of the Scot, recalling with fierce self-pity his long heartbreak and loneliness, rose in a flame of resentment and seared the flowering love in his heart.
“Ye gave me no word,” he snarled, rising. “Ye knew I was killing myself for lo—, for shame of ye, and ye let be. What do I owe ye but a curse!”
“That's enough,” said the boy husband; but his voice had become that of a man.
“Dad!” cried the girl.