“What did he say then?”
“'Sorry for you, m'lad, but them's m'lady's orders, an' I can't go contrary. I don't wish to go into things,' he says; 'you know better'n I how far 'tis gone when she was 'ere before; but seein' as m'lady don't never give in to deceased wife's sister marryin', if she come back 'tis certain to be the other thing. So, as that won't do neither, you go elsewhere,' he says.”
Having spoken thus at length, Tryst lifted the teapot and poured out the dark tea into the three cups.
“Will 'ee have some, sir?”
Derek shook his head.
Taking the cups, Tryst departed up the narrow stairway. And Derek remained motionless, staring at the Bridal Wreath, till the big man came down again and, retiring into a far corner, sat sipping at his own cup.
“Bob,” said the boy suddenly, “do you LIKE being a dog; put to what company your master wishes?”
Tryst set his cup down, stood up, and crossed his thick arms—the swift movement from that stolid creature had in it something sinister; but he did not speak.
“Do you like it, Bob?”
“I'll not say what I feels, Mr. Derek; that's for me. What I does'll be for others, p'raps.”