The agonized mother could scarcely repress a scream at the spectacle that met her gaze. She was slowed down by the icy wind that punctuated itself in screams around houses and trees. Swiftly following the sound of knocking, she crossed right and passed through a door near the windows—and found herself in the bookroom. "Give me the child, or—" As he spoke the door was thrown open, and Mrs. . Suddenly, she heard the crunch of new feet on the gravel. It ran in rivulets down her face, penetrating her hood and the thick quilting of her coat. Somebody ought to talk to him, warn him.
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