Toby looked up sharply, and again the colour came into her face, mounting swiftly to her forehead. She appeared to be on the verge of hot speech, but no words came.
It was Jake who spoke in his soft, easy drawl. "Oh, I guess he's grown a bit since then. Anyway, whatever his intentions, he never managed to do me any harm. And I rather think his malice is dead now."
"It died long ago," said Maud quietly. "He owes you a great deal, Jake.
You've taught him to be a man."
"I?" said Jake. "My dear, your partiality runs away with your judgment.
Have some ham!"
He dismissed the matter in his own calm fashion, and began to talk of his animals. Breakfast proceeded, but Toby scarcely spoke and ate very little.
"It's so hot to-day," she said when presently Maud remonstrated with her. "I can't eat when it's hot—really." She pushed her plate away and rose from the table. "Do you mind if I go?"
"Yes, I mind," said Jake. "Go and sit in that arm-chair and smoke a cigarette! I shall be ready when you've finished."
He held out his case to her, and, though she made a face at him, she yielded. She threw herself down in the chair he indicated and smoked in silence.
Chops came and laid his head upon her knee, and she fondled his silken ears with an understanding touch. But her eyes were fixed before her with something of hardness in their look.
Maud finished her breakfast and got up. "I am going up to the nursery," she said. "Don't hurry, Toby dear! The children can run in the garden till you are ready."