Ruth's eyes were on him like a flash, and Ruth's eyes saw more than they were intended to see.
"You know why she did not speak, Geoffrey?"
"Yes, I do," he confessed, "but I cannot tell you why. Don't ask me."
"Has it to do with Neil?"
"Don't ask me," he repeated, with a frown. "I decline to tell you."
Meanwhile Mrs. Jent had prepared the table, observing betweenwhiles that Neil still slept. Geoffrey had already been to see him, having seized the opportunity while Ruth and her old nurse were making up their tiff; and he reported that the invalid looked much better for the rest. He had brought with him a paper parcel.
"Here is the horse, Ruth," he said.
"The horse!" cried Mrs. Jent, who was pouring out the tea. "Is that my dear boy's horse--the one he wants to give to little Master Chisel?"
"Yes, I should have sent it long ago, but now Miss Ruth will take it."
"Don't you, miss, don't you!" said the old woman. "It will bring no good luck to the child. That was the toy with which my dear boy was playing when his father was murdered!"