“Don't you like it?” she added in alarm, stroking the delicate fur.
“Take it off!”
Kate ripped away the fastenings and tossed the skin far away.
“Oh!” breathed Joan.
“It isn't clean! It isn't clean,” cried Kate. “Oh, my poor, darling baby! Get your bonnet and your cloak, Joan, quickly.”
“We're coming back?”
“Of course.”
Joan trudged obediently to the side of the cave and produced both articles, sadly rumpled, and Kate buttoned her into them with trembling fingers. Something akin to cold made her shake now. It was very much like a child's fear of the dark.
But as she turned towards the entrance to the cave and caught the hand of Joan, the child wrenched herself free.
“We'll never come back,” she wailed. “Munner, I won't go!”
“Joan, come to me this instant.”
Grief and fear and defiance had set the child trembling, but what the mother saw was the glint of the eyes, uneasy, hunting escape with animal cunning. It turned her heart cold, and she knew, with a sad, full knowledge that Dan was lost forever and that only one power could save Joan. That power was herself.
“I won't go!”
