The fry had hissed vigorously whilst this conversation went on; the results were brown and unctuous.
‘Now, if it ain’t too bad!’ cried the old woman, losing self-control. ‘That ‘Arry gets later every Sunday, and he knows very well as I have to wait for the beer till he comes.’
I’ll fetch it,’ said Emma, rising.
‘You indeed! I’d like to see Dick if he caught me a-sending you to the public-house.’
‘He won’t mind it for once.’
‘You get on with your supper, do. It’s only my fidgetiness; I can do very well a bit longer. And Alice, where’s she off to, I wonder? What it is to have a girl that age! I wish they was all like you, Emma. Get on with your supper, I tell you, or you’ll make me angry. Now, it ain’t no use taking it to ‘eart in that way. I see what you’re worritin’ over. Dick ain’t the man to be out o’ work long.’
‘But won’t it be the same at his next place?’ Emma inquired. She was trying to eat, but it was a sad pretence.
‘Nay, there’s no telling. It’s no good my talkin’ to him. Why don’t you see what you can do, Emma? ‘Tain’t as if he’d no one but his own self to think about Don’t you think you could make him see that? If anyone has a right to speak, it’s you. Tell him as he’d ought to have a bit more thought. It’s wait, wait, wait, and likely to be if things go on like this. Speak up and tell him as—’
‘Oh, I couldn’t do that!’ murmured Emma. ‘Dick knows best.’
She stopped to listen; there was a noise above as of people entering the house.