Cyril, who had had no opportunity to prepare his case, offered no reply.
“You heard what I said,” Mr. Povey thundered.
“I’ve got three-halfpence,” Cyril murmured glumly, looking down at the floor. His lower lip seemed to hang precariously away from his gums.
“Where did you get that from?”
“It’s part of what mother gave me,” said the boy.
“I did give him a threepenny bit last week,” Constance put in guiltily. “It was a long time since he had had any money.”
“If you gave it him, that’s enough,” said Mr. Povey, quickly, and to the boy: “That’s all you’ve got?”
“Yes, father,” said the boy.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, father.”