He dropped down Borough Lane, hackles still up, on the way to meet Ernie by appointment in the Moot.
At the corner he waited, one eye on Ern's cottage, which he did not approach. Then Ruth's face peeped round her door, amused and malicious, to catch his dark head bobbing back into covert as he saw her. The two played I spy thus most evenings to the amusement of one of them at least.
"He's there," she told Ernie in the kitchen—"Waitin at the corner.—Keeps a safe distance, don't he?—What's he feared on?"
"You," answered Ernie, and rose.
Ruth snorted. The reluctance to meet her of this man with the growing reputation as a fighter amused and provoked her. Sometimes she chaffed with Ernie about it; but a ripple of resentment ran always across her laughter.
Ern now excused his friend.
"He's all for his politics," he said. "No time for women."
"Hap, he'll learn yet," answered Ruth with a fierce little nod of her head.