In the half light he thrust an envelope towards his son.
Ern opened it and saw that it contained a five-pound note.
The great waters surged up into his throat and filled his eyes.
"Here! I can't keep this, dad," he said chokily. "I'm all right. I've got..."
The old man—for such he was to his son, though not yet fifty—waved his hand irritably.
"Put it away," he said, "put it away. Let's hear no more of it."
Ernie sat dumb, moved and wondering.
Where had dad got the money from?
He knew very well that his mother jealously controlled the family purse, doling out rare sixpences or shillings to his father; and he knew why.
The boy's brain moved swiftly.