'Never, without a strong necessity, Bryan.'
He laughed; but it was more like a dry husky cough than a laugh.
'When a man locks the street-door,' he said, 'trust a woman to see that the yard-door's on the latch.'
'I want to thank you, Bryan, for the home you have offered me and my boy.'
'Perhaps it won't suit you.'
'It will suit us, Bryan, if it will suit you to allow us to remain.'
He seemed to chew the words, 'allow us to remain,' silently, as if their flavour were unpleasant to him; but he said aloud:
'Wait and see, then.' And although my mother wished to continue the conversation, he turned his back to us, and abruptly left the room.
My mother sank into a chair; she must have been very tired, for she had walked not less than twelve miles that day.
'You must be tired too, my dear,' she said, drawing me to her side.