‘Who’s that?’ George asked anxiously. He still found it difficult to resist the impulse of hiding himself.
‘I didn’t see,’ Mrs Malpas lied.
She gave George his beer, and he settled down to it. The two labourers spoke spasmodically in the bar.
‘Well, mother,’ he said at last. ‘Tell us how things have been going on.’
Mrs Malpas pursed her lips. ‘Going on! That’s the word. I wrote to you, George. You got my letter?’
‘Yes, I got that all right.’
Mrs Malpas grew intense. Her hands trembled with emotion. ‘She’s a bad woman, George. Downright bad. I told you so before.’
‘There’s not another kid waiting for me, no surprise packet of that kind?’
‘No. But she’s that deceitful, George. She’s no better than her father. She couldn’t have used you worse than she has. So open! You never made a worse mistake.’
‘You let me teach her!’ said George between his teeth. ‘I’ll learn her her bleeding duty!’