And there was silence for a few moments. He drank his rum, and after opening and shutting his mouth once or twice, rose to go.
Sue watched him to the door and then in spite of herself the tears began to trickle down the side of her nose, and she sobbed once audibly.
French was at her side in a moment.
“What is the matter, lassie?” he said kindly, all his shyness vanishing as he whipped out a large yellow handkerchief and began to wipe her eyes hastily. “Are you ill?”
Sue sobbed violently.
“No,” she said angrily, and then snatching the handkerchief out of his hand buried her face in it.
French put a big hand on each of her shoulders and shook her gently.
“If I asked you for something would you give it to me?” he said.
Sue still covered her face with her hands.
“Oh! why don’t you ask me?” she sobbed.