"They won't jump down my throat, then?"
"Not likely. I'm going in to have a tell with Mr. Withycombe now. He's poorly, and a neighbour cheers him up and makes him forget his pains."
"What did he think about it, Mr. Maynard?"
"He thought you was right, I believe."
"I'm very glad of that. And what did you think?"
"You know what I thought, miss. I thought you was dead right."
She kept silent for a moment. Then she spoke.
"I wish to God Johnny would see it."
"He will—some day. He don't yet. He——"
Maynard stopped. She put her hand on his arm eagerly.