She stared incredulously at him. "Ugly," she said, "it's a beautiful baby. One of the loveliest children I've ever clapped my eyes on. Look at it!..." She held the baby forward to him.
"I can see it right enough," he answered. "I think it's ugly!"
"You don't know a fine-looking child when you see it," she answered indignantly.
He went back to Eleanor's room ... she was out of bed now, but because the day was cold was sitting before a fire in her bedroom ... and sat with her while she talked of little things that had happened to her during their separation. "You know, John," she said, "you're not looking well. You're getting thin and grey!..."
"Grey?"
"Yes ... your face looks grey. I'm sure that life isn't good for you!"
"I feel tired, but that may be the journey. The sea was rough last night, crossing from Liverpool to Belfast, and I didn't get any sleep. Mebbe that's what it is, I daresay I'll be looking all right to-morrow!"
"How long are you going to stay?" she asked.
"Well, Clotworthy told me to get back as soon as possible. Do you think you'll be able to come home with me at the end of the week?"
She did not answer.