The waterman sheltered his mouth with his hand while he spoke, or his voice would have been carried away by the violence of the blast. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. She could even think of what had happened. He sees men all defiled by coarse thoughts, coarse ways of living cruelties. There will be no more children in this house, not ever! And if anyone ever tries bringing children into our house again, I shall kill the lot of them. He fancied that when they had had time to reflect, they would regret it still more.
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