“What?” said Maisie, looking at him inquiringly. She wished he would not stand still just there, but he spoke in such a determined manner that she knew it must be something important; so she stood still too, and waited for him to speak.
“I shall go and ask Mr Solace to let Tuvvy stop,” he said.
Maisie’s look changed to one of admiration, and almost of awe. “Shall you, really?” she said softly. “Do you think he will?”
“I don’t know,” replied Dennis, beginning to walk on very quickly, “but I shall try to make him.”
“But,” said Maisie, after a minute’s thought, “wouldn’t it be best to ask Tuvvy first to leave off having bouts?”
Although she was a girl, and younger than himself, Dennis was quite ready to acknowledge that Maisie had very sensible ideas sometimes. He now stopped again, and stared at her. It would certainly be better to get Tuvvy’s promise first, but he felt he must carry out the interview alone.
“Well,” he said slowly, “if I do, where will you wait? I couldn’t do it with you listening. Will you go back to old Sally’s?”
But that, Maisie, remembering the fluff, quite refused to do. She would go and see Mrs Solace, she said, and this being settled, she went towards the house, and Dennis turned to the barn where Tuvvy worked.
As he entered, and saw the familiar thin figure bending over the carpenter’s bench, he felt excited and nervous. How should he begin? As a rule, he did not talk much during these visits, and that made it more difficult now. He took his usual seat on a chopping-block near, and Tuvvy, after giving him one rapid sidelong glance, continued his work without speaking. He was making a ladder, and just now was arranging a heap of smoothly-turned rungs in neat rows. Dennis thought he had a rather shamefaced air, like the dog Peter when he knew he had done wrong. It was of no use to wait for him to make a remark, so he said carelessly:
“Is that going to be a long ladder?”