Do fetch it." He rushed off into the hall.

He fumbled eagerly with the buckles of the canvas bag.

It had never taken so long, to draw the precious Infant forth.
He held it up to the hall lights.

He wanted to make sure that it was really as brown and as beautiful as it had always seemed to him.
Yes, it was as richly brown as the darkest horse-chestnut you ever saw in a bursting bur! He walked back into the sitting-room, carrying it proudly before him.
Helen had just lighted the spirit-lamp beneath the swinging kettle on the brass stand.

Her face was rather white again.
"Here it is, Helen," he said.