Grizel pinned the trembling arms with her own and twisted her legs round her mother's, and still the Painted Lady's tremors shook them both, so that to Tommy they were as two people wrestling.
The shivering slowly lessened and at last ceased, but this seemed to make Grizel no less unhappy.

To her vehement attempt to draw her mother's attention she got no response; the Painted Lady was hearkening intently for some sound other than Grizel's voice, and only once did she look at her child.

Then it was with cruel, ugly eyes, and at the same moment she shoved Grizel aside so viciously that it was almost a blow.
Grizel sat down sorrowfully beside her doll, like one aware that she could do no more, and her mother at once forgot her.

What was she listening for so eagerly?
Was it for the gallop of a horse?
Tommy strained his ears.
"Elspeth--speak low--do you hear anything ?" "No; I'm ower fleid to listen." "Whisht! do you no hear a horse ?" "No, everything's terrible still.

Do you hear a horse ?" "I--I think I do, but far awa'." His imagination was on fire.