This page needs to be proofread.
442
THE ANCIENT GRUDGE
asleep. She had crept toward the little bed in the darkness and now knelt beside it, straining with tear-filled eyes to see the small face on its pillow, listening with eager ears to the soft, the all but noiseless breathing.
"Little Floyd," she murmured after a while, "you are all that is left to me out of my marriage. God keep you! God help me to guide you right!"
