She came out of the shadow and went to the foot of the steps, her cloak
falling from her shoulders as she passed me. I picked it up.
She lifted her arms pleadingly, though her head was bent with what
seemed to me a beautiful sort of shame. She stood there with the snow
driving against her and did not speak. Beasley drew his hand slowly
across his eyes--to see if they were really there, I think.
“David,” she said, at last. “You've got so many lovely people in your
house to-night: isn't there room for--for just one fool? It's
Christmas-time!”