“Hush,” he said, and looked up at her with reddened eyes. “Don't wake your mother.”
“I won't,” she whispered. “How about you? You haven't slept any at all!”
“Yes, I did. I got some sleep. I'm going over to the works now. I got to throw some figures together to show the bank. Don't worry: I'll get things fixed up. You go back to bed. Good-bye.”
“Wait!” she bade him sharply.
“What for?”
“You've got to have some breakfast.”
“Don't want 'ny.”
“You wait!” she said, imperiously, and disappeared to return almost at once. “I can cook in my bedroom slippers,” she explained, “but I don't believe I could in my bare feet!”
Descending softly, she made him wait in the dining-room until she brought him toast and eggs and coffee. “Eat!” she said. “And I'm going to telephone for a taxicab to take you, if you think you've really got to go.”
“No, I'm going to walk—I WANT to walk.”