Joe looked at him in astonishment.
“Silk? Why, Hal Grame, what in heaven and earth do you want with——” He broke off abruptly, a wave of understanding passing over his face.
“She’s not worth your troubling, mate,” he said at last.
A dull flush of anger spread over the younger man’s face and he broke out impetuously:
“Not worth my troubling! Lord save you, Joe Pullen, if it was any other man who said as much, I’d——”
Joe put a huge paw on the boy’s shoulder.
“That’s right, lad, that’s right,” he said kindly. “The lass is your love when all’s said an’ done—pray Heaven you may not be as fooled as I was, though,” he added mournfully, the thought of Mistress Amy flashing through his mind.
Hal smiled in spite of himself at his friend’s lugubrious expression, but he soon became serious again.
“Joe,” he said hesitatingly.
“Ay!”