‘Your niece, ma’am. And then: “Of course! Always. " "'The avenger of blood himself shall slay the murderer'," said Wood, who was culling for himself certain texts from the scriptures. Love was joy, and joyous she was when alone. She came to spend hours with the bastard children that the women brought, dressing and feeding the tiny ones, inventing games for the older ones. She had never been there before at that hour, in that light, and it seemed to her as if she came to it all for the first time. Still, one never could tell. ‘Your wife?’ ‘My wife,’ he repeated, rising also, his smile mocking her. She entered the last room, his bedroom.
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