yes blazed, and
the colour came and went in the stern, white face.

"Don't--do--that!" she panted, springing to the door and flinging it
back.

"What in thunder is the matter with you?" Jude stepped aside. Something
in this change and fury startled him.

"Don't shut--the--door, Jude. We--we--can't leave him out there alone in
the cold. He's so little--our--baby!"

Jude had a moment of doubt as to how he should deal with this foolery.
If he were quite sure it was just Joyce's nonsense--but perhaps she had
gone crazy. The thought stayed him.

Then he considered that in either case he must get the upper hand, and
at once. All depended upon that.

"Go and set down," he commanded, eyeing the girl as she stood in the
open doorway. "You don't 'spose we're going to live with open doors, do
you?"

There was mastery in the tone, and, to gain her end, the woman resorted
to her only course.

"Just--for to-night, Jude--just a little way open. I'd choke if I--shut
him away so soon--and he so little and--and--all."

Fear of what he did not understand roused in Jude a brutish desire to
overcome this something that threatened. For a moment he decided to rush
from the house and leave the thing to work out its own way; but second
thought brought with it his plans, which must be set in motion at once.

This attitude of Joyce's was a new obstacle, but if he conquered her, he
might overcome it. So by sheer force of weak will he strode over to the
woman who defied him, even while she pleaded, and grasped her roughly by
the shoulder.

In that touch Joyce recognized what all suppressed and deprived
womanhood has always felt, and she recoiled to reconnoitre.

"You do as I tell you, Joyce, and go and set down. The door is going to
be shut and you take that in, plain and quick." He drew her away, and
slammed the door with a crash.

Joyce went quietly to her chair, but a new and terrible look came into
her eyes.

Jude sat on the edge of the table, disregarding the spotless cover and
soiled dishes. He wanted to be near Joyce in case of an outbreak, and he
had much to say.

"Are you listening to me?" he asked slowly, as if he were speaking to a
child.

"Oh! yes," Joyce replied, and her tone reassured him; "I'm listening."

"Do you think you've ever taken me in any?"

The man's sullen black eyes held the clear, bluish-gray ones.

"Oh, never, Jude! You're terribly smart. I've always known that--but
please--" the strained eyes