Bill looked at the body with increased respect. “Kin I do anythin’ for you? Now, don’t be frightened to arsk!”
“No. Thank you very much, all the same.”
“Well, I must be goin’; thank yer fur yer trouble, mum.”
“No trouble, my boy—mind the step.”
“It is gone. I’ll bring a piece of board round some night and mend it for you, if you like; I’m learnin’ the carpenterin’; I kin nearly make a door. Tell yer what, I’ll send the old woman round to-night to fix up Arvie and lend yer a hand.”
“No, thank you. I suppose your mother’s got work and trouble enough; I’ll manage.”
“I’ll send her round, anyway; she’s a bit rough, but she’s got a soft gizzard; an’ there’s nothin’ she enjoys better than fixin’ up a body. Good-bye, mum.”
“Good-bye, my child.”
He paused at the door, and said:
“I’m sorry, mum. Swelp me God! I’m sorry. S’long, an’ thank yer.”