‘Have you got enough money to go on with?’ Alice asked.
‘Dick sent me a pound this morning. I didn’t want it’
‘Has he been to see you yet, mother?’
The old woman shook her head.
‘Do you want him to come, or don’t you?’
There was silence. Alice looked at her mother askance. The leathern mask of a face was working with some secret emotion.
‘He’ll come if he likes, I s’pose,’ was her abrupt answer.
In the renewed silence they heard some one enter the house and descend the kitchen stairs. ‘Arry presented himself. He threw his hat upon a chair, and came forward with a swagger to seat himself at the tea-table.
His mother did not look at him.
‘Anything to eat?’ he asked, more loudly than was necessary, as if he found the silence oppressive.