The neck and jaw and mouth were drawn and seamed and scarred in a
frightful and hideous manner, the teeth protruded and the mouth was
drawn to one side in a frightful leer; above that was all the beauty of
"My Lady of the Eyes."
For a moment I was dumb and powerless, and in that moment Hopkins
appeared with a bound, and between us we captured my poor friend's wife
and struggled and fought with her up the long stairs and back to her
bed.
Sitting one on either side, we had all we could do to hold her hands.
She would lift us both to our feet, she was struggling desperately, and
the eyes were the eyes of a tigress.
When this strain was at its worst and every nerve on edge, another
scream from behind us cut our ears like a needle, the eyes of the
tigress as well as ours sought the door, and there in her golden curls
and white "nightie" stood little Madeline. The eyes of the tigress
softened to tenderest love, and with a bound, the baby was on her
mother's breast, her arms around her neck, and she was saying, "Poor
Mama, what they doin' to poor Mama?"
"My darling, my darling," said the mother in the sweetest of tones.
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