“I’m married.”
“Losh!”
Tibby dropped her pen and turned sorrowful eyes of wonder upon him. Bennett jingled the money in his pocket.
“I’m married,” he said. “I’m very happy.”
“Och! The foolishness of men! Married! Laddie, ye’ll never have a son as young as yourself.”
“I’m married,” said Bennett, “and I’m going to be very happy, and I don’t care what . . .”
“Have you told your mother?”
“No.”
“Better tell her at once. You’ll break your neck over it. I’ll finish this and then I’ll think it out. . . . Married! Losh!”
She turned to her work again, and the pen scratched and spluttered. Bennett reached the door when she called to him: