Since then, I have been a mere disfigured piece of furniture between you both; having no eyes, no ears, no feelings, no remembrances. Moan? Moan for what you made him; not for your love. I tell you that the time was, when I loved him better than you ever did!’

She stood with her bright angry eyes confronting the wide stare, and the set face; and softened no more, when the moaning was repeated, than if the face had been a picture.

‘Miss Dartle,’ said I, ‘if you can be so obdurate as not to feel for this afflicted mother — ’

‘Who feels for me?’ she sharply retorted.

‘She has sown this. Let her moan for the harvest that she reaps today!’