that had crept into this dark burrow out of the storm. His lips sought hers. He stroked her cheek. Like a solemn threnody the voices in the bar surged over them. They might have been at the bottom of the sea.
Delight was sitting before the chest of drawers, with her Granny's apple-green tea-set spread out before her, when May entered. She turned towards her, a happy smile curving her lips.
"What do you s'pose, May?" she said. "Not a blessed cup or saucer's been chipped. Even the tea-pot spout never got a nick. . . . Oh, for goodness sake! What's up?"
May stood before her, glassy-eyed, with a terrible twist to her mouth. "I've seen 'im," she answered, in a queer coughing way.
"Oh, Albert, eh? Wasn't he nice to you, May?"
"Nice to me! Listen to the girl! Ow, yes, 'e was nice to me! Very nice to me, 'e was! Loverly to me, I'd s'y, if the queen came around in 'er carriage and ast me."
"May, are you crazy?"
"Small wonder if I was. Wot do you s'pose that 'e's done but get married! To a Canidian girl out 'ere. Married and livin' with 'er this six months. Ader, 'er nime is. Red-'aired."
Delight flew to her and would have folded her in her arms but May backed from her till she stood against the bedroom door. She stretched her arms upon it and broke into hysterical laughter. "Ow, 'e's made a proper wreck of me, 'e 'as!" she laughed, "ain't it a joke?"
"Hang on to yourself," said Delight, "or you'll have the others in. Shall I throw cold water on you now?"
