The Devourers Annie Vivanti by Annie Vivanti 9781495364983, 1495364984 instant download after payment.

The baby opened its eyes and said: "I am hungry." Nothing moved in the silent, shadowy room, and the baby repeated its brief inarticulate cry. There were hurrying footsteps; light arms raised it, and a laughing voice soothed it with senseless, sweet-sounding words. Then its cheek was laid on a cool young breast, and all was tepid tenderness and mild delight. Soon, on the wave of a light-swinging breath, it drooped into sleep again. ________________________________________ Edith Avory had hurried home across the meadow from the children's party at the vicarage, her pendant plaits flying, her straw hat aslant, and now she entered the dining-room of the Grey House fluttered and breathless. "Have they come?" she asked of Florence, who was laying the cloth for tea. "Yes, dear," answered the maid. "Where are they? Where is the baby?" and, without waiting for an answer, the child ran out of the room and helter-skeltered upstairs. In front of the nursery she stopped. It was her own room, but through the closed door she had heard a weak, shrill cry that plucked at her heart. Slowly she opened the door, then paused on the threshold, startled and disappointed. Near the window, gazing out across the verdant Hertfordshire fields, sat a large, square-faced woman in pink print, and on her lap, face downward, wrapped in flannel, lay a baby. The nurse was slapping it on the back with quick, regular pats. Edith saw the soles of two little red feet, and at the other end a small, oblong head, covered with soft black hair. "Oh dear!" said Edith. "Is that the baby?"