"I wish you would come," she said, and laid a pleading hand on his arm. "I'm sure he would try to behave. I can generally manage him except when he's been drinking. Then I'm afraid of him, and wish some one else was at hand. But that's only when he's been out all night at the fishing, and it's soon over and done with. Do come, monsieur!"—It was almost a whisper now, and she leaned towards him—the rich dark face—the great solicitous eyes.
But she had mistaken her man. Perhaps she had not met many like him.
He shook off her hand almost brusquely.
"It is impossible, madame. I could not," and he pushed past just as Nance came to the door.
She had seen him coming, heard their voices outside, and wondered what was keeping him.
She turned back into the house when she saw Julie, wondering still more. For Gard's face was disturbed, and had in it something of the look she had seen more than once when he had faced Tom in his tantrums.
And, glancing past him, she had seen what he had not—Julie's face when he turned his back on her.
"Mon Gyu!" gasped Nance to herself, and went in wondering.
"She and Tom wanted me to take my old room again, and I refused," was all he said.
"Tom wanted you to go there?" said Mrs. Hamon in amazement.