"Mother, give me a candle, will you?"

He went over with her to the closet, waited while she unlocked it
and, thrusting her arm deep into its disordered depths, searched
till she drew out a candle. No good-night was spoken; and David,
with a look at his father and mother which neither of them saw,
opened and closed the door of their warm room, and found himself in
the darkness outside at the foot of the cold staircase.




XIII


A bed of crimson coals in the bottom of the grate was all that
survived of his own fire.

He sat down before it, not seeing it, his candle unlighted in his
hand, a tragedy in his eyes.

A comfortless room. Rag carpeting on the floor. No rug softening
the hearth-stones. The sashes of the windows loose in the frames
and shaken to-night by twisty gusts. A pane of glass in one had
been broken and the opening pasted over with a sheet of letter
paper. This had been burst by an indolent hand, thrust through to
close the shutters outside; and a current of cold air now swept
across the small room. The man felt it, shook himself free of
depressing thoughts, rose resolutely. He took from a closet one of
his most worthless coats, and rolling it into a wad, stopped the