“Lord, what a big arm it is!” exclaimed the widow. “And no wonder, or how would you be a terror to men? You naughty boy, to think of stirring! Here you'll lie.”
“Ah, will I?” said Robert: and he gave a spring, and sat upright in the bed, rather white with the effort, which seemed to affect his mind, for he asked dubiously, “What do I look like, mother?”
She brought him the looking-glass, and Susan being dismissed, he examined his features.
“Dear!” said the widow, sitting down on the bed; “it ain't much for me to guess you've got an appointment.”
“At twelve o'clock, mother.”
“With her?” she uttered softly.
“It's with a lady, mother.”
“And so many enemies prowling about, Robert, my dear! Don't tell me they didn't fall upon you last night. I said nothing, but I'd swear it on the Book. Do you think you can go?”
“Why, mother, I go by my feelings, and there's no need to think at all, or God knows what I should think.”
The widow shook her head. “Nothing 'll stop you, I suppose?”