Mrs. Tams went to the window and pulled aside the blind.
"Aye!" she announced simply. "It's Miss Rachel and Mr. Fores."
Mrs. Maldon caught her breath.
"You didn't tell me she was out with Mr. Fores," said Mrs. Maldon,
stiffly but weakly.
"It's first I knew of it," Mrs. Tams replied, still spying over the
pavement. "He's given her th' key. There! He's gone."
Mrs. Maldon muttered--
"The key? What key?"
"Th' latch-key belike."
"I must speak to Miss Rachel," breathed Mrs. Maldon in a voice of
extreme and painful apprehension.
The front door closing sent a vibration through the bedroom. Mrs.
Tarns hesitated an instant, and then raised the gas. Mrs. Maldon lay
with shut eyes on her left side and gave no sign of consciousness.
Light footsteps could be heard on the stairs.
"I'll go see," said Mrs. Tams.
In the heart of the aged woman exanimate on the bed, and in the heart
of the aging woman whose stout, coarse arm was still raised to the
gas-tap, were the same sentiments of wonder, envy, and pity, aroused
by the enigmatic actions of a younger generation going its perilous,
instinctive ways to keep the race alive.
Mrs. Tarns lighted a benzolene hand-lamp at the gas, and silently left
the bedroom.
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