“I don’t know. Anywhere away,” answered Clare, quickening his pace.
In spite of his swollen visage, Tommy’s eyes grew wider.
“You ain’t cribbed nothing?” he said.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“You ain’t stole something?” interpreted Tommy.
Clare stopped, and for the first time on his own part, lifted his hand to strike. It dropped immediately by his side.
“No, you poor Tommy,” he said. “I don’t steal.”
“Thought you didn’t! What are you running away for then?”
“Because they don’t want me.”
“Lord! what will you do?”