‘Where’s your ’usband?’ he inquired, afraid and stern.
‘Oh—’im,’ said Sally, trying to look unconcerned, but flushing. ’E’s with ’is mother, ’e is. Ain’t you pleased to see me, Father?’ she asked, in an attempt to lead the conversation off husbands at least for a bit; and tighter to her side she hugged the box of chocolates, because the feel of it helped her to remember Father-in-law’s approval and encouragement. And he was a gentleman, wasn’t he? And a lot older even than Father, so must know what was what.
‘Oh, indeed. With ’is mother, is ’e,’ said Mr. Pinner, ignoring her question. ‘’Oos car was that?’ he asked.
‘Father-in-law’s,’ said Sally, hugging her chocolates.
‘Oh, indeed. And ’oo may father-in-law be?’
‘The gentleman as is—as was goin’ to marry Mr. Luke’s mother.’
‘Oh, indeed. And you ride about in ’is car meanwhile. I see.’
‘Lent it to me so I can come ’ome.’
‘What do ’e want to send you ’ere for, then?’ asked Mr. Pinner, leaning on his knuckles, his blue eyes very bright. ‘Ain’t your ’ome where your ’usband’s is? Ain’t that a married woman’s ’ome?’
‘I only come on a visit,’ faltered Sally, whose spirits were by now in her shoes. Her father had often scolded her, but she had never been afraid of him. Now there was something in his eye that made her feel less sure that she had taken, as Mr. Thorpe had told her, the one possible and completely natural step. ‘I only come for a few days, while Mr. Luke——’