The door grated, as Haley opened it.
"Come, my woman! Must lock up for t'night. Come, stir yerself!"
She went up and took Hugh's hand.
"Good-night, Deb," he said, carelessly.
She had not hoped he would say more; but the Sired pain on her mouth just then was bitterer than death. She took his passive hand and kissed it.
"Hur 'll never see Deb again!" she ventured, her lips growing colder and more bloodless.
What did she say that for? Did he not know it'! Yet he would not impatient with poor old Deb. She had trouble of her own, as well as he.
"No, never again," he said, trying to be cheerful.
She stood just a moment, looking at him. Do you laugh at her, standing there, with her hunchback, her rags, her bleared, withered face, and the great despised love tugging at her heart?
"Come, you!" called Haley, impatiently.