She was alone; for Bess must play the housewife, and was at that moment addressing a slattern maid upon the sin of dust in some far-off, lofty corridor of the premises.

Richard swept Dorothy with a gray glance like a flashlight.

Her face was troubled, but full of fortitude, and she was very white about the mouth.
At sight of Richard, however, Dorothy's fortitude gave way, and went whirling down-stream in a tempest of tears and sobs.

With her poor hands outstretched as if for protection, she felt her way blindly into the shelter of those arms; and Richard drew her close and closer, holding her to his heart as though she were a child.

He asked no question, said no word, sure only as granite that, whatever the trouble, it should not take her from him.