"I don't want anything."
It was his mother's custom to bring him some trifle for supper on Friday night, the night of luxury for the colliers. He was too angry to go and find it in the pantry this night. This insulted her.
"If I wanted you to go to Selby on Friday night, I can imagine the scene," said Mrs. Morel. "But you're never too tired to go if she will come for you. Nay, you neither want to eat nor drink then."
"I can't let her go alone."
"Can't you? And why does she come?"
"Not because I ask her."
"She doesn't come without you want her——"
"Well, what if I do want her—" he replied.
"Why, nothing if it was sensible or reasonable. But to go trapesing up there miles and miles in the mud, coming home at midnight, and got to go to Nottingham in the morning——"
"If I hadn't, you'd be just the same."