"We'll better be off."
"Wait a moment," said Clara, with a nod to indicate the still busy
infant.
Then the door opened, very slowly and cautiously, and as they all
observed the movement of the door, they all fell into silence. Darius
himself appeared. Unobserved, he had left the garden and come into the
house. He stood in the doorway, motionless, astounded, acutely
apprehensive, and with an expression of the most poignant sadness on his
harsh, coarse, pimpled face. He still wore the ridiculous cap and held
the newspaper. The broadcloth suit was soiled. His eye wandered among
his family, and it said, terrorised, and yet feebly defiant, "What are
they plotting against me? Why are they all here like this?"