Some other part of her brain was wondering where it was that he had got the drink.

He must have had a bottle of whisky in his room; she remembered his shyness when he said good-night to her.
He stood in the middle of the floor, swaying on his feet and smiling at her.

The flame of the light rose and fell in jerks and spasms.
"I thought," he said, "I'd come--to see m'little Maggie, m'little niece, jus' to talk a lill bit and cheer her up--up." He drew nearer the bed.

"She'll be lonely, I said--lonely--very--aren't you--lonely Maggie ?" "It's very late," she said, "and you're dropping grease ail over the floor with that candle.

You go back to bed, uncle.