The woman opened her lips to speak, but the man passed his hand upward over her face a moment and disappeared. A strong hand fell upon her shoulder.
"Mother!" she cried, with a breath of joy or relief, "I have come home."
"Asleep?" a hard voice said in her ear. "Why are you not outside in your place, you lazy sloven?"
She started to her feet, passing her hand across her eyes, staggering into consciousness.
Her husband seized her by the shoulder, shaking her. "By God!" he growled, "if I thought you were drunk I would lash the hide off your bones."
"Don't dare to speak to me like that!"—she faced him now like one of his lions—"and take your hand off me at once!"
"I'll speak to you as I like and use you as I like." He shook her to and fro, then pushed her roughly from him. "Don't give me any of your infernal jaw, either."
She seized the loaded whip he had laid beside him when he came upon her, and raised it above her head. Her hot Irish blood coursed madly through her veins. In
