the air against the wall, with his head nearly off the sofy onto the
floor, just like he used to--there--that's his step--"

"I can't see him now! Here--let me go into your room till I freshen and
rest a bit--quick--"

Once more the indecisive knees seemed about to bend either way under
their burden. With an effort of will she drew the amazed Clytie toward
the open door of the latter's bedroom, then closed it quickly, and stood
facing her in the dusk of the curtained room.

"Clytie--I'm weak--it's so strange--actually weak--I shake so--Oh,
Clytie--I've got to cry!"

There was a mutual opening of arms and a head on Clytie's shoulder, wet
eyes close in a corner that had once been the good woman's neck--and
stifling sobs that seemed one moment to contract her body rigidly from
head to foot--the next to leave it limp and falling. From the nursing
shoulder she was helped to the bed, though she could not yet relax her
arms from that desperate grip of Clytie's neck. Long she held her so,
even after the fit of weeping passed, clasping her with arms in which
there was almost a savage intensity--arms that locked themselves more
fiercely at any little stirring of the prisoned one.

At last, when she had lain quiet a long time, the grasp was suddenly
loosened and Clytie was privileged to ease her aching neck and cramped
shoulders. Then, even as she looked down, she heard from Nancy the
measured soft breathing of sleep. She drew a curtain to shut out one
last ray of light, and went softly from the room.