“There you go again. Now, come, be sensible. I must get back soon.”
“To her!” cried Judith, wildly.
“Nonsense. Don’t be silly. She’s like a cold fish to me. It will all come right.”
“Yes, if you will come and speak to my father.”
“Can’t.”
“Rob, dear,” cried Judith in a sharp whisper; “you must, or it will be father’s ruin. He has begun to utter threats.”
“Threats? He’d better not.”
“It’s in his despair, dear. He says it’s your fault if he, in spite of his trying to be honest, is driven back to poaching.”
“He’d better take to it! Bah! Let him threaten. He knows better. Nice prospect for me to marry a poacher’s daughter.”
“Oh, Rob, how can you be so cruel. You don’t know.”