“Aye, mam.”
“Did it break?”
“No, dearie,” he replied, looking from the strewn floor with such reassurance for her that the deacons, if they could have seen his face, would have been confounded.
“An’ the creamer I stuffed so full of paper? I thought I heard it crack.”
“No, mam, not a crack.”
“What’m I lyin’ here for, lad? Dreamin’?”
“Aye, restin’ ye a little.”
“Aren’t we goin’ somewhere? I’m a bit tired, dad; I’d rather stay here,” she concluded, looking up at him trustfully.
“We’re goin’ nowhere whatever, mam; an’ ye shall stay here,” Gabriel answered.