His wife sat up in bed listening. A loud knock resounded through the house. It's Herbert! she screamed. "It's Herbert!" She ran to the door, but her husband was before her, and catching her by the arm, held her tightly. What are you going to do? He whispered hoarsely.
"It's my boy; it's Herbert!" she cried, struggling mechanically. "I forgot it was two miles away. What are you holding me for? Let go. I must open the door". For God's sake don't let it in, cried the old man, trembling.
"You're afraid of your own son," she cried, struggling. "Let me go. I'm coming, Herbert; I'm coming."
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