155 The ringing doorbell jarred her from her stupor. He felt her warm breath upon his cheek, the perfume of her hair as she leaned over him. For a time he heard no more, and stared with stony eyes at a Book-War proclamation in leaded type that filled half a column of the Times that day. But a little daughter is one thing and a daughter quite another. ” He smiled bitterly as he handed her from the cab. ‘So it would appear. He was perched on the very edge of the leather seat of the coach, his threecornered hat twisting nervously in his hands, and from time to time he passed a tongue over dry lips. I would that you were my own.
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