"It's not yours, then. Never mind Maggie. Your uncle and I had a talk about you last night."
"Why don't you ask to see my dance order?" He made a defensive clutch at his pocket as if she had, and quick colour swept into his cheeks. She watched it, and watched it fade, leaving his face tired and sullen, and too old for its years. "Uncle!"
"He's been like a father to you."
"I've been two sons to him, then. He's worked me like two. If he grudges the time I take off, I can make it up to him. There's been little enough of it, and there'll be little more, and there's been little enough enjoyment in it, and I'm not ashamed of it. Why don't he spy on his own daughter, if he's curious? Why——" This outburst ended as suddenly as it began, in a short, sullen laugh as he pushed his empty cup away. "Dan thinks he can land something for me with the telephone company. I couldn't send money home at first, but I'd be off your hands. Tell that to Uncle."
"Would you be with Dan, in Wells?"
"Somewhere outside Wells. It won't be too gay. You needn't be afraid I'll go to too many dances."
"Don't glare at me. I'm not your uncle."
"Sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me."
"Don't you?"
He flushed, laughed, and ignored the question, producing a small box and offering it. "I got that last night. Don't wipe your hands. They're good enough to handle it wet." A gold medal glittered in her hand. He observed it without enthusiasm, and noticing that, his mother shut the box abruptly.