“Well, Master don't belt 'er, does 'e?”
“No; but 'e don't buy 'er the kipper, neither. An' I'd ruther 'ave the beltin' from my ole man, even wivout no kipper, than 'ave us allers lookin' at each other as if we was wooden images. Even a beltin' shows as 'ow a man 'as some regard for 'is daughter.”
“It do,” said Cook. “Pity is, you ain't 'ad more of it, that's the only thing!”
CHAPTER III
PLAYING TRUANT
“Demobilized! Oh, Bob—truly?”
“Truly and really,” said Bob. “At least, I shall be in twenty-seven days. Got my orders. Show up for the last time on the fifteenth of next month. Get patted on the head, and told to run away and play. That's the programme, I believe, Tommy. The question is—What shall we play at?”
Cecilia brushed the hair from her brow.
“I don't know,” she said vaguely. “It's too big to think of; and I can't think in this awful house, anyhow. Take me out, quick, please, Bobby.”