The baby shrieked.

Tom was angry with the weakling, rated him soundly for ingratitude to "the author of his being," and shook him roughly to teach him the good manners of the world he had come to.
Thereat in Letty sprang up the mother, erect and fierce.

She darted to Tom, snatched the child from his arms, and turned to carry him to the inner room.

But, as the mother rose in Letty, the devil rose in Tom.

If what followed was not the doing of the real Tom, it was the doing of the devil to whom the real Tom had opened the door.