"
"You are larger than I," she whispered, kissing his forehead, and the
caress of her lips seemed to him the soft impact of a leaf falling
through the still autumn air.
And as the heat of the room ebbed away, he told of her foremother and
of his, and of the sturdy Welse who fought the great lone fight, and
died, fighting, at Treasure City.
CHAPTER XVIII
The "Doll's House" was a success. Mrs. Schoville ecstasized over it in
terms so immeasurable, so unqualifiable, that Jacob Welse, standing
near, bent a glittering gaze upon her plump white throat and
unconsciously clutched and closed his hand on an invisible windpipe.
Dave Harney proclaimed its excellence effusively, though he questioned
the soundness of Nora's philosophy and swore by his Puritan gods that
Torvald was the longest-eared Jack in two hemispheres. Even Miss
Mortimer, antagonistic as she was to the whole school, conceded that
the players had redeemed it; while Matt McCarthy announced that he
didn't blame Nora darlin' the least bit, though he told the Gold
Commissioner privately that a song or so and a skirt dance wouldn't
have hurt the performance.
"Iv course the Nora girl was right," he insisted to Harney, both of
whom were walking on the heels of Frona and St. Vincent. "I'd be
seein'--"
"Rubber--"
"Rubber yer gran'mother!" Matt wrathfully exclaimed.
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