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Burnett, Frances Hodgson, 1849-1924

"The Head of the House of Coombe"


"This is the Night Nursery, I suppose," Coombe had said when she
began. He put up his glasses and looked the uninviting little room
over. He scrutinized it and she wondered what his opinion of it
might be.
"Yes, my lord. The Day Nursery is through that door." He walked
through the door in question and she could see that he moved slowly
about it, examining the few pieces of furniture curiously, still
with his glass in his eye. She had finished undressing Robin
and had put her in her bed before he came back into the sleeping
apartment. By that time, exhausted by the unknown tempest she had
passed through, the child had dropped asleep in spite of herself.
She was too tired to remember that her enemy was in the next room.
"I have seen the child with you several times when you have not
been aware of it," Coombe said to her before he went downstairs.
"She has evidently been well taken care of as far as her body
is concerned. If you were not venomous--if you had merely struck
her, when you lost your temper, you might have had another trial.
I know nothing about children, but I know something about the
devil, and if ever the devil was in a woman's face and voice the
devil was in yours when you dragged the little creature from under
the bed. If you had dared, you would have killed her. Look after
that temper, young woman. Benby shall keep an eye on you if you
take another place as nurse, and I shall know where you are.


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