“And now,” he said, “I must go and get some milk for the child.”
“I will go, your worship,” said Roger.
“Very well. I shall thank you. Here is a sixpence,” said Everage.
“If your honor pleases, I must buy a mug or summit to fetch it in.”
“Here is another sixpence. And now make haste. I want to see the child comfortable before I leave him to-night.”
“All right, your honor; I’ll be back in no time,” said Roger, starting out of the room.
“But—where are you going to lay him?” inquired Everage, glancing at the old woman’s foul bed with a visible shudder.
“Oh, your honor, it’s all right. He shall sleep with me,” said the crone.
“No, I would rather he should not. Can’t he sleep with the girl?”
“But she shares my bed, your honor.”