Zora's eyes were now fixed far above the woman's head, and she saw a human face forming itself in the vast rafters of the forest. Its eyes were wet with pain and anger.
"Perhaps," she answered.
The child furtively uncovered her face and looked at the stranger. She was blue-eyed and golden-haired.
"Whose child is this?" queried Mary, curiously.
Zora looked coldly down upon the child.
"It is Bertie's. Her mother is bad. She is gone. I sent her. She and the others like her."
"But where have you sent them?"
"To Hell!"
Mary Taylor started under the shock. Impulsively she moved forward with hands that wanted to stretch themselves in appeal.
"Zora! Zora! You mustn't go, too!"