Her cowering attitude, the fear
which was written in every line of her face, fed his anger, until, in
his blind rage, all pity and self-restraint seemed to be swept away.
But just as he neared the bed, when in his burning look Ninitta seemed
already to feel his hands clutching her with cruel force, his foot
struck against something which lay on the floor. It was one of Nino's
wooden soldiers. The father stopped, and his look changed. He
remembered how Nino had come in from the nursery while he was dressing
that night, bringing his arms full of more or less shattered figures
which he had appealed to his father to put to rights for a grand battle
which was to be fought in the morning. Herman looked down at the toy
and forgot his anger. He looked up at his wife and she saw with wonder
the change in his face. It had been full of indignation against the
wife who had deceived him; on it now was written reproachful anguish,
and pity for the mother of his son.
"Ninitta," he said. "How could you do it?"
She cowered down in the bed, burying her face in her hands. She could
not answer, and there came over him a painful sense of the uselessness
of words.
"Everybody must recognize Fenton's picture," he said. "If you did not
remember me, Ninitta, how could you forget Nino? How will he feel when
he is old enough to realize what you have done?"
The frightened woman burst into convulsive sobs mixed with moans like
those of a hurt animal.
Pages:
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349