Hal winced, and French, who was watching, put an arm affectionately round his wife’s shoulders.
“Come, lass, we stay too long a-talking,” he said, gently drawing her to him.
Sue looked up at him, a smile on her lips. She was very proud of her handsome husband, and they went out together, little Red following, his hand clutching French’s big coat skirts.
After they had gone there was silence in the room for a second or two, while Pullen helped himself to more ale from a pitcher at his elbow.
Hal stared into the blazing fire.
“Like the old days?” he said at last, half to himself. “Like the old days? My God!”
Joe put down his tankard and wiped his lips.
“I reckon I’ll be going home to Amy—damn her,” he said, getting up.
Hal looked up, frowning.
“Must ye so, mate?” he said wistfully.