"Now you can go and sit down in comfort, and smoke the pipe of peace on my special window-seat—I give you permission—and watch the good people going to church."
"That is, if you are coming."
"I think I'll go first and see what has become of mama."
"This will do, for a few minutes, Miss Deleah. We will stop here," he said.
So Deleah, there being no escape, perched herself on the corner of the table where the plates and tea-cups were collected until Emily should return to wash them, and waited for what he had to say.
He found some difficulty in beginning apparently, and frowned upon the matting covering the floor.
"It's about myself," at length he began with an effort painful to see; his hands seemed to be pulling tensely upon his folded arms, the blunt fingers of the broad red hands showed white upon the coat-sleeves, his face was still of the muddy pink which with him stood for pallor.
"I hope you won't think it intruding of me to talk about myself."
"Which in other words means about Bessie," said Deleah to herself, strung up, now that it was inevitable, for the revelation.
"It's about my prospects. Perhaps you think I haven't got any, Miss Deleah. Or any position, to speak of? I have not, I know. Not like your friend, Mr. Forcus. He's got this thousands a year, where at most I can hope for hundreds, I suppose."