“The Temple Barholm as' 'd be here if he was na.”
Joan turned to Tembarom.
“Do you come here to talk to this boy about HIM?” she said. “How dare you!”
Tummas's eyes snapped; his voice snapped also.
“He knew next to nowt about him till I towd him,” he said. “Then he came to ax me things an' foind out more. He knows as much as I do now. Us sits here an' talks him over.”
Lady Joan still addressed Tembarom.
“What interest can you have in the man who ought to be in your place?” she asked. “What possible interest?”
“Well,” he answered awkwardly, “because he ought to be, I suppose. Ain't that reason enough?”
He had never had to deal with women who hated him and who were angry and he did not know exactly what to say. He had known very few women, and he had always been good-natured with them and won their liking in some measure. Also, there was in his attitude toward this particular woman a baffled feeling that he could not make her understand him. She would always think of him as an enemy and believe he meant things he did not mean. If he had been born and educated in her world, he could have used her own language; but he could use only his own, and there were so many things he must not say for a time at least.
“Do you not realize,” she said, “that you are presuming upon your position—that you and this boy are taking liberties?”