Owen at Home
I can't help worrying about your clothes. I'm afraid they'll never be dry enough for you to put on the first thing in the morning. Couldn't you stay at home till after breakfast, just for once?'
'No, I mustn't do that. If I did, Hunter would probably tell me to stay away altogether. I believe he would be glad of an excuse to get rid of another full price man just now.'
'But if it's raining like this in the morning, you'll be wet through before you get there.'
'It's no good worrying about that, dear; besides, I can wear this old coat that I have on now, over the other.'
'And if you wrap your old shoes in some paper, and take them with you, you can take off your wet boots as soon as you get to the place.'
'Yes, all right,' responded Owen. 'Besides,' he added, reassuringly, 'even if I do get a little wet, we always have a fire there, you know.'
'Well, I hope the weather will be a little better than this in the morning,' said Nora. 'Isn't it a dreadful night! I keep feeling afraid that the house is going to be blown down.'
Long after Nora was asleep, Owen lay listening to the howling of the wind and the noise of the rain as it poured heavily on the roof. But it was not the storm only that kept him awake. Through the dark hours of the night his thoughts were still haunted by the words on that piece of blood-stained paper on a kitchen wall: 'This is not my crime but Society's.'
75
