“We are neither of us well,” I said.
“I should think you must be deranged to behave so,” she snapped, “and
it is no wonder I am not well the way you treat me.”
“How could I know what you wanted me to see?” I began.
“Wanted you to see!” she cried. “You keep it up? You pretend you didn’t
see it, after all? Oh! I have no patience with you.”
She burst into tears, fled upstairs and I heard her slam and lock our
bedroom door.
I put that puzzle together again and the likeness of that hungry,
filthy child in the picture to our Amy made my heart ache.
I found a stout box, cut two pieces of straw-board just the shape of
the puzzle and a trifle larger, laid one on top of it and slid the
other under it. Then I tied it together with string and wrapped it in
paper and tied the whole.
I put the box in my overcoat pocket and went out carrying the flat
parcel.