“I’ve left there way back in the summer.”
“What made you leave?”
“Oh, well!”
“Then you ain’t got no money?” There was tender concern in her tones.
“Not hardly.”
“How many meals have you had to-day?”
He had a flash of resentment. “Don’t you worry about me,” he said, gruffly.
“Bother!” said Priscilla, contemptuously, though her voice faltered. “You’re jest goin’ to come along and have a good square meal.”
“No, I’m not. I’m not hungry any.”
“Oh, Matt! Where do you expect to go to?” said Priscilla, with a roguish, disarming smile.