“I shall go where I please, without asking your leave or any body’s else! I am of age, and I have been tied quite long enough to the apron-strings of a parcel of women: but I mean not to cut myself loose from them, only to pass under guidance of a silly lad that hath never a spark of spirit in him, and would make an old woman of me if I gave him leave.” Then, in a voice more like his own, he added, “Get you in to your knitting, old Mistress Floriszoon, and tie your cap well o’er your ears, lest the cold wind give you a rheum.”
“I will go in when you come with me,” said Hans calmly.
“I will not.”
“To-night, Aubrey—only just to-night!”
“And what for to-night, prithee? I have other business afloat. To-morrow I will maybe look in.”
Perhaps Aubrey was growing a little ashamed of his warmth, for his voice had cooled down.
“We can never do right either to-morrow or yesterday,” answered Hans. “To-night is all we have at this present.”
“I tell you I will not!” The anger mounted again. “I will not be at the beck and call of a beggarly tradesfellow!”
“You love better to be at Satan’s?”
“Take that for your impudence!”