"I shall get into another place soon, mother; don't worry about it."
"But why didn't you take the place when he offered it to you at double wages, Fitz? It seems to me you are crazy."
"No, I am not crazy. I know what I am about, and Checkynshaw knows what he is about. What do you suppose induced him to double my salary so readily?"
"Because he saw how poor we were."
"What does he care for that? There is no more soul in him than there is in a brickbat, mother. It wouldn't trouble him if you starved to death—though you are his first wife's sister. That wasn't the reason."
"What was the reason, then, Fitz?" asked she, curiously.
"Checkynshaw is afraid of me," replied Fitz, stopping in his walk up and down the room, and looking into his mother's face to note the effect of this startling announcement.
"Afraid of you, Fitz! You are losing your senses!" exclaimed she, with an expression of strong disgust.
"It's just as I say, mother. He's afraid of me."
"Why should he be afraid of you? You are not so very terrible as to alarm a man in his position."