He signalled with his eyes to Flora towards the
door of the state-room fitted specially to receive Mr. Smith, the free
man. She seized the free man's hat off the table and took him
caressingly under the arm. "Yes! This is home, come and see your room,
papa!"
Anthony himself threw open the door and Flora took care to shut it
carefully behind herself and her father. "See," she began but desisted
because it was clear that he would look at none of the contrivances for
his comfort. She herself had hardly seen them before. He was looking
only at the new carpet and she waited till he should raise his eyes.
He didn't do that but spoke in his usual voice. "So this is your
husband, that . . . And I locked up!"
"Papa, what's the good of harping on that," she remonstrated no louder.
"He is kind."
"And you went and . . . married him so that he should be kind to me. Is
that it? How did you know that I wanted anybody to be kind to me?"
"How strange you are!" she said thoughtfully.
"It's hard for a man who has gone through what I have gone through to
feel like other people.
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