"That is where you are to sleep," said she, spitefully.
"It is better than I deserve," said he, humbly.
The absurd rule about not hitting a man when he is down, has never obtained a place in the great female soul; so Ryder lashed him without mercy.
"Well, sir," said she, "methinks you have gained little by breaking faith with me. Y' had better have set up your inn with me, than gone and sinned against the law."
"Much better: would to Heaven I had!"
"What d'ye mean to do now? You know the saying. Between two stools—."
"Child," said Griffith, faintly, "methinks I shall trouble neither long. I am not so ill a man as I seem; but who will believe that? I shall not live long. And I shall leave an ill name behind me. She told me so just now. And, oh, her eye was so cruel; I saw my death in it."
"Come, come," said Ryder, relenting a little, "you mustn't believe every word an angry woman says. There, take my advice; go to bed; and in the morning don't speak to her; keep out of her way a day or two."
And with this piece of friendly advice she left him; and waited about till she thought he was in bed and asleep.
Then she brought Thomas Leicester up to her mistress.