. I’m ashamed to confess it, but I didn’t want the charge of you—a too close reminder of my own lost babe. She was posing before the mirror, critically, miserably, defensively, and perhaps bewilderedly. Anything else that was said she now regarded only as an aspect of or diversion from that. She saw its depraved eyes, but worse were the glittering teeth as it smiled. ‘Odds were against it. They were on their way back home, or so she had thought. But such was the violence of his grief,—such the compunction he exhibited, that all but one looked on with an eye of compassion. She could hear the raucous laughter and bad music below.
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