But something stronger than her flesh or her nerves--the vein of iron in her soul--decided the issue.
"Come in with me, and I'll take care of you," she said.

"There is the step.

Don't stumble.

Here, steady yourself with the umbrella.

We are almost there now." Her voice was cold and hard; but the words were those she might have used to Archibald had she been leading him in out of the storm.
Still whimpering and stumbling, George clung to her with his desperate clutch, while she dragged him up the short walk, which was deep in snow, to the six steps, which appeared to her to reach upward into eternity.
As she approached the house, a light shone out suddenly in one of the windows and a sense of safety, of perfect security descended upon her, for she knew that it was the red glimmer of O'Hara's fire.