She felt her knees trembling under her. “I haven't come to stay,” she faltered. “They told me the child was ill, and I couldn't help coming.”
Still he did not speak to her. As he looked, his face grew awful. The dew of fear broke out on her forehead.
“Don't you know me, Pete?” she said in a helpless way.
Still he stood looking down at her, fixedly, almost threateningly.
“I am Katherine,” she said, with a downcast look.
“Katherine is dead,” he answered vacantly.
“Oh! oh!”
“She is in her grave,” he said again.
“Oh, that she were in her grave indeed!” said Kate, and she covered her face with her hands.
“She is dead and buried, and gone from this house for ever,” said Pete.