Just like I kissed you the night our boy was born." It was sufficient.

The chanting began again, accompanied by the swish of the spade as it sank into the earth and the cludding roll of the clods as they were thrown to one side.

Fairchild gained the door.

A moment more and he staggered with his burden into the protecting darkness of the night.
The snow crept about his ankles, seeming to freeze them at every touch, but Fairchild did not desist.

His original purpose must be carried out if Rodaine were not to know,--the appearance that Harry had aroused himself sufficiently to wrap the blankets about him and wander off by himself.