With trembling fingers she opened the post-bag. She felt as if she had struck them unawares. In the twilight he had ceased to be a person one could tackle and shame; he had become something more general, a something that crawled and sneaked toward her and would not let her alone. He had the air of a man who has said too much. His hands were exploring her once again in the car. "By Heaven!" cried he in a tone of surprise, "you have an infant there?" "To be sure I have," replied Wood, angrily; for, finding that the intentions of the stranger were pacific, so far as he was concerned, he thought he might safely venture on a slight display of spirit. ‘You are stubborn like a mule. T’weren’t fitting, we knew that.
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