“You have seen him out there?”
“Yes; and I—oh!”
“There! there. Think of the folk. Fight it down.”
“I will. Go to him, and say I can't bear it. Him to stand there—while those I don't care a pin for—oh, Jael, for pity's sake get him home to his mother.”
“There, don't you fret. I know what to say.”
Jael went down; borrowed the first shawl she could lay her hand on; hooded herself with it, and was across the road in a moment.
“You are to go home directly.”
“Who says so?”
“She does.”
“What, does she tell me to go away, and leave her to him?”