She took the baby from him, and he rose to his feet as feeble as an old man.
“Lord save us!” she cried. “The window broke, too. What's happened?”
“Nothing,” growled Pete.
“Then what's coming of Kirry? I left her at home when I went out at seven.”.
“I'm choking with thirst, woman. Can't you be giving a man a drink of something?”
He found a dish of milk on the table, where the supper had been laid, and he gulped it down at a mouthful.
“She's gone—that's what it is. I see it in your face.” Then going to the foot of the stairs, she called, “Kirry! Kate! Katherine Cregeen!”
“Stop that!” shouted Pete, and he drew her back from the stairs.
“Why aren't you spaking, then?” she cried. “If you're man enough to bear the truth, I'm woman enough to hear it.”
“Listen to me, Nancy,” said Pete, with uplifted fist. “I'm going out for an hour, and till I'm back, stay you here with the child, and say nothing to nobody.”