‘Why, my dear!’ he cried, casting an ardent look upon her, ‘I be main glad to hear ye say so! I’d ax nothin’ better nor to be about ye always; an’ I’d comfort an’ do for ye so well as I could. ’T is a thing,’ he added, with modest candour, ‘as I’ve a-had in my mind for some time, but I did n’t like to speak afore. I was n’t sure as ye’d relish the notion. But now as you’ve a-hinted so plain—’
Rosalie had averted her face for a moment, but as he advanced towards her with extended arm, she flashed round upon him a glance which suddenly silenced him.
He remained staring at her with goggling eyes and a dropping jaw during the awful pause which succeeded.
He heaved a sigh of relief, however, when she at last broke silence, for she spoke calmly, and her words seemed innocuous enough.
‘Is that your coat hanging up behind the door?’
‘Yes, mum,’ responded Sam, no longer the lover but the very humble servant.
‘Go and get it then. Your cap, I think, is on the table.’
She fumbled in her pocket for a moment, and presently drew forth her purse, from which she counted out the sum of fourteen shillings. Her eyes had a steely glitter in them as she fixed them on Sam.
‘Here are your week’s wages,’ she said. ‘Take them, and walk out of this house.’
‘Mum,’ pleaded Sam piteously. ‘Missus—!’