'Come to the table,' she said, 'so that I can see you.'
He came nearer, but when she looked at him she saw that he was trembling. He had to press his hands hard against the edge of the table in order to keep them still.
'Have you got the bear?' she asked again.
He could not answer; he only shook his head.
The old woman got up and did what she had not done since her son was a child. She went up to him, laid her hand on his arm, and drew him to the bench. She sat down beside him and took his hand in hers.
'Tell me now what has happened, my boy.'
The young man recognised the caress which had comforted him in bygone days when he had been in trouble and unhappy, and he was so overcome that he began to weep.
'I suppose it is something about father?' she said.
'It is worse than that,' the son sobbed. 'Worse than that?'
The young man cried more and more violently; he did not know how to control his voice. At last he lifted his rough hand, with the broad fingers, and pointed to what she had just read: 'Peace on earth. . . .'