e hiccoughed. "Let's--let's look at it," he said, hiccoughing again.

"Go away!" she cried.

"Lemme--lemme look at it, lass."

She smelled him of drink, felt the unequal pull of his swaying grasp on
the back of her rocking-chair.

"Go away," she said, and weakly she pushed him off.

He stood, uncertain in balance, gazing upon her. Summoning all her
strength she rose, the baby on one arm. By a cruel effort of will,
moving as if in sleep, she went across to the scullery, where she bathed
her eye for a minute in cold water; but she was too dizzy. Afraid lest
she should swoon, she returned to her rocking-chair, trembling in every
fibre. By instinct, she kept the baby clasped.

Morel, bothered, had succeeded in pushing the drawer back into its
cavity, and was on his knees, groping, with numb paws, for the scattered
spoons.

Her brow was still bleeding. Presently Morel got up and came craning his
neck towards her.

"What has it done to thee, lass?" he asked, in a very wretched, humble
tone.

"You can see what it's done," she answered.

He stood, bending forward, supported on his hands, which grasped his
legs just above the knee. He peered to look at the wound. She drew away
from the thrust of his face with its great moustache, averting her
own face as much as possible. As he looked at her, who was cold and
impassive as stone, with mouth shut tight, he sickened with feebleness
and hopelessness of spirit. He was turning drearily away, when he saw
a drop of blood fall from the averted wound into the baby's fragile,
glistening hair. Fascinated, he watched the heavy dark drop hang in
the glistening cloud, and pull down the gossamer. Another drop fell. It
would soak through to the baby's scalp. He watched, fascinated, feeling
it soak in; then, finally, his manhood broke.

"What of this child?" was all his wife said to him. But her low, intense
tones brought his head lower. She softened: "Get me some wadding out of
the middle drawer," she said.

He stumbled away very obediently, presently returning with a pad, which
she singed before the fire, then put on her forehead, as she sat with
the baby on her lap.

"Now that clean pit-scarf."

Again he rummaged and fumbled in the drawer, returning presently with a
red, narrow scarf. She took it, and with trembling fingers proceeded to
bind it round her head.

"Let me tie it for thee," he said humbly.

"I can do it myself," she replied. When it was done she went upstairs,